I 


r       NO.  2.        1 
Lnew  SEREES.J 


^ 


ON' 


HORSESHOEING. 


BY 

wj:lliam  miles, 


■^^  ^xj 


^ 


i^i. 


REPRINTED,   FOR    GENERAL  DISTRIBUTIOX,   FROM  THE    JOURNAL    OP  THE  ROTAL  AGRICULTURAL 
SOCIETT  OP  ENGLAND.      VOL.   18,   P.   270. 


BOSTON : 

1858. 

J.   H.   EASTBURN'S    PRESS. 


\ 


HORSESHOEING. 


Although  the  subject  of  this  paper  may  not  legitimately  come 
under  the  head  of  agriculture,  it  is  nevertheless  so  intimately  con- 
nected with  the  interests  of  the  agriculturist,  and  has  been  so  woful- 
ly  neglected  by  him,  that  I  may  perhaps  be  excused  for  attempting 
to  arouse  him  to  a  sense  of  its  importance  in  a  pecuniary  point  of 
view.  Horses  are  essential  to  the  carrying  on  of  his  pursuits,  he 
cannot  possibly  do  without  them,  and  a  lame  one  is  a  very  serious  and 
expensive  incumbrance  to  him. 

My  object,  therefore,  shall  be  to  show  him  and  others  how  they 
may  insure  to  themselves  a  much  larger  amount  of  good  and  efficient 
service  from  their  horses  than  has  hitherto  been  obtained  fi'om  them, 
at  the  small  cost  of  a  little  attention  to  the  mode  in  which  they  are 
shod,  and  the  general  treatment  of  their  feet  in  the  stable.  It  is  too 
much  the  habit  to  consider  that  shoeing  has  accomplished  all  that  can 
be  expected  of  it,  if  the  shoes  are  only  firm  on  the  horse's  feet  when 
his  master  requires  his  services  ;  whether  they  are  tight  and  pinch 
him,  or  are  easy  and  comfortable  to  him,  are  matters  that  are  seldom 
considered,  so  long  as  he  can  go  at  all,  and  contrive  to  keep  himself 
on  his  legs,  and  not  diminish  his  marketable  value  by  tumbling  down 
and  breaking  his  knees  ;  all  the  pain  he  endures  passes  unheeded, 
except  by  the  poor  brute  himself,  and  until  he  becomes  positively 
lame  and  useless  he  receives  no  sympathy  or  care  from  those  whose 
bounden  duty  it  was  by  timely  attention  to  have  spared  him.  "  No 
foot  no  horse"  is  a  truth  that  1  doubt  not  has  been  realized  to  many 
of  my  readers,  when,  in  the  expectation  of  an  agreeable  ride  either 
on  business  or  pleasure,  they  have  found  their  horse  emerge  from  the 
stable,  marking  time  with  his  head  at  every  step  with  the  precision  of 
a  drill-sergeant. 

The  first  thing  that  occurs  to  every  one  on  such  occasions  is  to 
travel  yesterday's  journey  over  again  in  the  mind's  eye,  in  the  hope 
of  discovering  some  particular  hole  in  the  road,  or  some  pai'ticular 
stone  that  must  have  caused  the  unlooked  for  and  unexpected  calam- 
ity ;  the  bare  possibility  of  its  being  the  gradually  developed  result 
of  long  continued  bad  shoeing,  and  bad  treatment  in  the  stable,  of 
course  never  suggests  itself,  because  the  horse  has  always  been  treat- 
ed as  other  horses  are  treated,  and  therefore  those  things  can  have 
nothing  whatever  to  do  with  it ;  and  this  would  be  considered  a  suffi- 
cient and  satisfactory  answer  to  any  one  who  had  the  temerity  to  sur- 
mise such  a  cause.  I  will  nevertheless  venture  to  assert,  that  in  nine 
hundred  and  ninety-nine  cases  of  foot-lameness  out  of  every  thousand, 
bad  shoeing  and  bad  stabling  have  had  more  to  do  with  it,  than  the 
supposed  accident  that  causes  the  horse  to  "  drop  his  head  to  it,"  and 
thereby  show  that  tlie  culminating  point  had  at  last  been  reached,  and 
that  he  is  indisputably  lame. 


Foot-lameness  is  a  very  insidious  affair,  particularly  that  most 
painful  and  common  form  of  it,  navicular  lameness.  It  steals  on 
very  gradually,  and  for  the  most  part  unobserved  by  all  but  the 
unfortunate  horse;  he,  poor  beast,  notes  its  every  stage,  and  if  those 
who  look  after  him,  and  those  who  employ  him,  would  only  attend  to 
the  indications  he  gives  them,  they  would  know  as  much  about  it  as 
he  does,  excepting  the  pain.  His  courage  enables  him  to  bear  a  good 
deal  without  much  flinching,  nevertheless  he  soon  shows  to  a  close 
observer  that  mischief  is  brewing ;  the  first  indication  he  gives  is  the 
straightening  of  the  pastern  bone,  so  as  to  place  the  weight  of  the  leg 
more  on  the  coffin  bone,  and  less  on  the  navicular  bone  ;  then,  as 
time  goes  on,  and  the  pain  increases,  he  relaxes  the  fetlock  joint,  and 
bears  less  weight  on  the  foot  altogether ;  still  there  is  not  much  in  his 
mode  of  standing  to  attract  the  attention  of  a  casual  observer ;  his 
next  plan  for  obtaining  relief  is  to  advance  the  foot  slightly,  so  as  to 
bring  the  toe  of  the  lame  foot  a  little  in  front  of  the  toe  of  the  oppo- 
site foot,  whereby  he  removes  it  in  some  degree  from  the  base  which 
supports  his  weight. 

AH  this  may  have  been  going  on  for  months,  and  no  one  have  ob- 
served it,  until  at  last  he  can  bear  the  pain  no  longer,  and  he  thrusts 
his  foot  fiiirly  out  in  front  of  him  in  undisguised  "  pointing ;"  never- 
theless he  contrives,  when  he  is  at  work,  by  shortening  his  stride  and 
stepping  a  little  quicker,  to  conceal  the  lameness  ;  and  the  groom  and 
his  master  become  in  time  so  accustomed  to  his  posture  in  the  stable, 
that  they  look  upon  it  as  a  mere  trick,  and  say,  "  it  is  all  nothing,  he 
always  stands  so  when  at  rest :"  the  latter  may  be  true,  but  the  former 
is  something  more  than  doubtful. 

Some  horses  are  unquestionably  given  to  tricks,  but  no  horse  ever 
indulges  in  a  trick  which  compels  him  to  stand  almost  constantly  on 
two  legs  instead  of  four;  the  pain  and  inconvenience  of  such  a  pro- 
ceeding would  soon  induce  him  to  relinquish  it  as  a  matter  of  amuse- 
ment. Before  he  can  point  a  fore  foot  he  is  obliged  to  dispense  with 
the  support  of  the  opposite  hind  leg,  which  he  does  by  relaxing  the 
muscles,  lowering  the  hip,  bending  the  joints,  and  resting  the  limb  on 
the  toe ;  he  then  has  to  divide  his  weight  as  equally  as  he  can  be- 
tween the  other  hind  leg  and  the  opposite  fore  leg,  and  having  done 
this  he  raises  the  lame  foot  and  deposits  it  sufficiently  forward  to 
insure  its  exemption  from  sustaining  any  portion  of  his  weight ;  he 
then  lowers  his  head  and  neck  with  a  view  of  still  further  diminishr 
ing  the  w^eight  on  his  feet,  and  presents  altogether  such  a  picture  of 
misery,  that  it  would  require  a  very  lively  imagination  in  the  beholder 
to  suppose  the  horse  is  merely  indulging  liimself  in  an  agreeable 
trick. 

The  horse's  foot  is  made  up  of  a  variety  of  textures  so  elaborately 
and  beautifully  combined  as  to  form  one  complicated  but  perfect 
spring,  and  unless  that  spring  is  permitted  to  have  constant  freedom 
of  action,  it  very  soon  gets  out  of  order,  the  more  delicate  parts  lose 
their  elasticity,  and  the  power  of  expansion,  Avhicli  is  so  essential  to 
the  soundness  of  the  foot,  becomes  first  diminished,  and  ultimately 
destroyed,  whereby  the  horse  is  soon  rendered  useless.  I  take  it 
there  are  few  persons  who  will  dispute  the  expansion  of  the  horse's 


foot,  but  whatever  the  general  theory  about  it  may  be,  the  all  but 
universal  practice  is  to  ti-eat  it  as  an  inelastic  solid,  whose  chief  use  is 
to  pound  MacAdamized  roads. 

The  horse  in  a  state  of  nature  roams  about  at  will  with  his  feet 
unfettered,  and  they  take  no  harm,  simply  because  he  is  permitted  to 
look  where  he  is  going,  pick  his  way  over  difficult  ground,  and  direct 
his  own  pace ;  but  as  soon  as  he  enters  the  service  of  man  these  val- 
uable privileges  and  safeguards  are  withdrawn,  and  the  various  uses 
to  which  he  is  put,  and  the  rapid  rate  at  Avhich  he  is  required  to 
travel  over  all  sorts  of  roads,  call  for  some  efficient  protection  to  his 
feet,  and  it  is  not  only  our  duty,  in  return  for  the  important  services 
he  renders,  to  see  that  it  is  applied  in  the  manner  the  least  detri- 
mental to  him,  but  it  is  our  interest  to  do  so  in  anticipation  of  the 
lengthened  service  it  will  insure  to  us.  If  horses  were  always  prop- 
erly shod,  and  properly  stabled,  they  would  repay  the  care  thus 
bestowed  on  them  by  the  increased  length  of  efficient  service  they 
would  perform.  When  a  horse  has  worked  seven  or  eight  years  it 
is  no  uncommon  thing  to  hear  his  master  say,  "he  owes  me  nothing," 
which  may  be  perfectly  true,  considering  the  treatment  he  has  re- 
ceived ;  but  if  he  had  been  properly  treated  during  the  time  he  Avould 
be  still  some  eight  or  ten  years  of  active  service  in  his  master's  debt. 

The  horse  is  a  much  longer  lived  animal  than  people  generally 
suppose  him  to  be  ;  but  the  prevalent  mistake  as  to  the  length  of  his 
natural  life  may  be  attributed  to  two  opposite  causes  :  First,  the  very 
lax'ge  number  that  are  known  to  die  at  an  early  age — victims,  it  may 
truly  be  said,  of  over-work,  bad  management,  and  cruel  treatment ; 
and  next,  the  great  diificulty  there  always  is  of  ascertaining  the  real 
age  of  a  horse  when  the  mark  has  disappeared  from  his  mouth. 
Horses  are  marketable  commodities,  and  very  few  persons  are  dis- 
posed to  lessen  their  value,  by  recording  very  accurately  the  number 
of  years  that  pass  over  their  heads,  after  the  mark  is  gone ;  the  con- 
sequence is,  that  they  remain  about  nine  or  ten  years  old  so  long, 
that  their  actual  age  becomes  buried  in  oblivion,  and  at  last  no  one 
really  does  know  how  old  they  are.  Many  a  man  at  this  moment  is 
using  a  horse,  perhaps  some  eight  or  ten  years  older  than  he  thinks 
he  is.  I  remember  many  years  ago  purchasing  an  active  showy- 
horse,  said  to  be  about  the  mysterious  age  of  other  people's  horses, 
and  there  was  nothing  in  his  appearance  or  powers  of  work  to  indi- 
cate greater  age ;  but  on  tracing  his  history  I  discovered  that  he  was 
twenty-nine  years  old,  and  the  sire  of  a  veiy  large  progeny.  Now, 
if  I  had  not  taken  the  trouble  to  trace  him  back  I  should  never  have 
known  within  fifteen  or  sixteen  years  how  old  he  really  was. 

I  have,  at  different  times,  met  with  four  horses  who  were  aU 
known  to  be  over  forty  years  old,  and  were  still  at  work  ;  one  of  them 
was  shot  at  the  age  of  forty-five,  not  because  he  was  incapable  of  fur- 
ther work,  but  because  his  master  saw  the  servant  ill  use  him.  But, 
perhaps  without  taxing  my  memory  for  further  facts,  those  supplied 
by  my  own  stable  in  November  of  last  year  may  sufficiently  illustrate 
my  position,  that  the  natural  life  of  a  horse  is  longer  than  it  is  gen- 
erally supposed  to  be.  I  had  at  that  time  six  horses  in  my  stable 
whose  combined  ages  amounted  to  one  hundred  and  .forty-five  years 


6 

and  five  of  them  are  still  there,  with  clean  legs  and  hoofs  looking 
like  colts'  hoofs.  The  sixth  I  had  destroyed  last  December  at  the 
age  of  twenty-six.  When  I  purchased  him  nineteen  years  ago  he 
had  incipient  navicular  disease,  but  I  contrived  by  shoeing  and  stable 
management  to  keep  it  at  bay  all  that  time. 

The  patriarch  of  the  lot,  who  was  bred  only  five  miles  from  Exe- 
ter, has  just  completed  his  fortieth  year  ;  his  early  history  does  not 
redound  to  his  credit ;  he  was  a  very  unruly,  unmanageable  brute, 
and  was  perpetually  changing  masters  for  running  away  and  kicking 
carriages  to  pieces ;  two  hackney  men  in  succession  tried  him,  but 
were  obliged  to  part  with  him  ;  at  length  he  was  handed  over  to  the 
tender  mei-cies  of  a  commercial  traveller,  whose  long  journeys  through 
Devon  and  Cornwall,  after  a  few  years,  subdued  him,  and  he  became 
a  very  useful  horse,  and  at  the  age  of  fourteen  was  sold  to  a  friend  of 
mine,  from  whom  I  purchased  him  exactly  twenty  years  ago.  He  is 
a  high  stepper  and  remarkably  handsome,  and  if  you  do  not  look  in 
his  mouth  his  general  appearance  would  pass  muster  for  nine  or  ten 
years  old ;  he  is  perfectly  quiet  out  of  the  stable,  but  he  had  been  so 
teazed  and  worried  all  his  life,  until  he  came  into  my  hands,  that  even 
now  he  will  not  permit  a  stranger  to  enter  his  box  alone.  The  next 
in  seniority  is  tAventy-nine  years  old,  and  is  the  best  hack  I  ever  rode. 
Seventeen  years  ago,  the  smith  who  usually  shod  him  declai-ed  his 
feet  to  be  so  far  gone  that  he  could  shoe  him  no  longer ;  and  he  was 
on  the  point  of  being  shot,  as  "used  up,"  and  "quite  done  for,"  when 
I  came  to  the  rescue,  and  accepted  him  as  a  present,  with  the  view  of 
trying  what  I  could  do  to  put  him  on  his  feet  again,  and  the  result  of 
my  trial  has  been  seventeen  years  of  very  efficient  service. 

There  is  no  speciality  attending  the  history  of  the  other  three  :  one 
is  twenty-one  years  old,  and  has  been  in  my  possession  sixteen  years  ; 
another  is  sixteen  years  old,  and  has  been  in  my  possession  nine 
years ;  and  the  last  of  the  six  above-named  horses  is  thirteen  years 
old,  and  I  have  had  him  eight  years.  The  horse  I  purchased  to 
replace  the  one  that  was  shot  in  December  is  seven  years  old,  and 
was  in  hai*d  work  up  to  the  time   I  bought  him,  and  although  he  has 

11..  O  '  o 

been  only  five  months  in  my  possession,  his  feet  and  legs  have  won- 
derfully improved,  and  begin  to  resemble  those  of  my  other  horses. 

If  I  were  asked  to  account  for  my  horses' legs  and  feet  being  in 
better  order  than  those  of  my  neighbors,  I  should  attribute  it  to  the 
four  following  circumstances  :  First,  that  they  are  all  shod  with  few 
nails,  so  placed  in  the  shoe  as  to  permit  the  foot  to  expand  every  time 
they  move ;  secondly,  that  they  all  live  in  boxes  instead  of  stalls,  and 
can  move  whenever  they  please  ;  thirdly,  that  they  have  two  hours 
daily  walking  exercise  when  they  are  not  at  Avork  ;  and  fourthly,  that 
I  have  not  a  head-stall  or  rack-chain  in  my  stable  :  these  four  circum- 
stances comprehend  the  whole  mystery  of  kee])ing  horses'  legs  fine, 
and  their  feet  in   sound  working  condition  up  to  a  grood  old   age. 

A  1  r  o  o 

Another  case  occurs  to  me,  Avhere  the  same  result  has  followed  simi- 
lar treatment  in  a  mare  I  purchased  for  a  friend  twelve  years  ago  ; 
she  was  twelve  years  old  when  I  bought  her,  and  had  done  a  great 
deal  of  work ;  she  has  ever  since  been  shod  by  the  smiths  Avho  shoe 
my  horses,  has  lived  in  a  loose  box,  is  never  tied  up,  and  continues  to 


do  her  work  as  pleasantly  as  ever  she  did.  I  may  mention,  in  con- 
firmation of  the  fact,  that  my  horses  are  never  tied  up  ;  that  a  short 
time  ago  a  veterinary  surgeon,  who  had  occasion  to  apply  a  liniment 
to  the  throat  of  one  of  tliem,  asked  for  a  halter,  and  learnt  to  his 
astonishment  that  there  was  not  one  in  the  stable ;  we  substituted  a 
watering  bi'idle,  and  afterwards  fastened  the  horse  to  the  pillar  reins, 
to  prevent  his  rubbing  his  neck,  instead  of  adopting  the  usual  plan  of 
tying  him  short  by  the  head  to  the  wall :  a  watering  bridle  is  at  all 
times  preferable  to  a  halter  either  for  commanding  or  leading  a 
horse. 

I  am  often  assured,  when  talking  of  shoeing,  that  it  is  quite  impos- 
sible to  persuade  country  smiths  to  listen  for  a  moment  to  any  new 
suggestion,  or  to  adopt  any  new  plan,  that  they  are  an  obstinate 
prejudiced  race,  and  nothing  can  induce  them  to  relinquish  any  of 
their  old  notions.  I  can  only  say  in  reply,  that  this  does  not  at  all 
accord  with  my  experience  of  them  as  a  class  :  on  the  contrary,  I 
have  found  them,  for  the  most  part,  to  be  hard-working,  painstaking 
men,  evincing  great  interest  in  their  work,  and  anxious  to  do  it  as 
well  as  they  could.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  there  are  no  excep- 
tions, because  I  know  there  are ;  but  the  exceptions  do  not  disprove 
the  rule. 

Before  we  consent  to  condemn  them  in  a  body  let  us  see  how  the 
matter  really  stands  between  them  and  their  employers,  who  accuse 
them  of  prejudice  and  obstinacy.  We  must  not  forget  that  they  have 
been  accustomed  from  the  period  of  their  apprenticeship  to  shoe 
horses  in  one  particular  manner,  which  has  hitherto  given  satisfaction, 
and,  as  far  as  they  know  to  the  contrary,  they  have  never  lamed  a 
horse. 

We  must  not  be  surprised,  if,  under  these  circumstances,  they 
should  show  great  reluctance  to  relinquish  plans  which  long  habit  has 
rendered  almost  second  nature  to  them,  or  if  they  require  to  be  thor- 
oughly convinced  of  the  pi'acticability  and  superiority  of  a  new  plan, 
before  they  consent  to  give  up  the  old  one  ;  and  as  it  is  much  more 
ditficult  to  efface  what  has  been  already  learnt  than  to  teach  what  is 
new,  he  who  undertakes  to  become  an  instructor,  must  at  least  be 
sufficiently  master  of  his  subject  to  be  able  to  point  out  pretty  clearly 
the  advantages  of  the  plan  he  proposes  over  that  which  he  desires  to 
alter ;  to  which  end  he  must  acquaint  himself  with  the  details  of  his 
plan  before  he  ventures  into  the  forge,  for  an  intelligent  smith  will 
make  a  very  accurate  estimate  of  his  fitness  to  teach  before  he  has 
been  many  minutes  there  ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  but  much  of  the  ob- 
stinacy and  perversity  one  hears  of  may  be  traced  to  the  smith's  hav- 
ing received  impracticable,  if  not  impossible,  directions.  And  surely 
it  is  not  very  unreasonable  in  him  to  object  to  carry  out  details  which 
he  does  not  comprehend,  and  which  he  strongly  suspects  his  instructor 
is  not  very  clear  about,  when  he  knows  full  well  that  he  would  decline 
to  share  the  blame  with  him,  in  case  the  experiment  should  fail,  and 
the  horse  cast  a  shoe. 

I  have  been  sometimes  surprised  at  the  readiness  with  which  smiths 
have  yielded  their  opinion  to  me,  as  soon  as  they  found  that  I  really 
knew  what  I  was  talking  about,  and  that  I  could  not  only  give  them 


8 

directions,  but  show  them  exactly  how  to  carry  them  out  in  detail, 
and,  if  I  had  only  possessed  the  brawny  arm  which  is  necessary  for 
such  a  pui-pose,  that  I  could  have  forged  the  shoe  and  fitted  it  to  the 
foot.  They  all  feel  that  horseshoeing  is  open  to  improvement,  and  as 
a  class  they  are  anxious  for  information  that  they  can  depend  on,  but 
they  are  naturally  very  shy  of  relinquishing  plans  which  they  have 
been  long  accustomed  to  for  others  which  they  do  not  comprehend ; 
but  any  gentleman  who  will  take  the  trouble  to  acquaint  himself  with 
the  princijDle  and  details  of  the  plan  which  I  advocate,  will  very  soon 
become  a  welcome  visitor  at  the  forge,  and  while  he  is  improving  the 
condition  of  his  own  horses'  feet,  he  will  find  that  he  is  indoctrinating 
the  whole  district  to  the  great  benefit  of  his  neighbors  ;  for  although 
they  will  not  take  trouble  themselves,  they  are  soon  ready  to  avail 
themselves  of  the  trouble  taken  by  others,  and  will  send  their  horses 
to  the  man  who  can  shoe  them  best,  and  that  causes  the  other  smiths 
to  look  about  them  and  change  their  plans. 

A  few  years  ago  I  rented  a  house  for  the  summer  near  to  a  coun- 
try village,  and  was  very  soon  waited  on  by  the  smith  with  specimens 
of  his  shoes,  and  a  foot  shod  in  his  very  best  manner ;  and  as  exam- 
ples of  careful  finish  they  were  very  pretty  things  to  look  at ;  but 
when  I  descended  from  the  ornamental  to  the  useful,  and  began  to 
point  out  the  defects  one  after  the  other,  he  looked  astonished,  and 
not  very  well  pleased ;  he  was,  however,  somewhat  consoled  by  my 
telling  him  that  I  would  have  one  of  my  horses  brought  to  his  forge 
on  the  following  morning,  and  then  I  would  show  him  what  I  meant. 
I  kept  my  word,  and  finding  that  he  entered  with  interest  into  my 
views,  and  tried  his  best  to  understand  and  carry  them  out,  I  took 
some  trouble  with  him,  and  frequently  looked  in  and  directed  him  at 
his  work.  One  day  I  found  him  turning  store-shoes  of  a  better  form 
than  any  I  had  yet  seen  in  his  forge,  and  observing  to  him  that  they 
were  more  like  what  I  meant,  he  said,  "  Oh  yes,  I  have  got  it  now, 
Sir ;  my  shoes  were  all  too  short  to  fit  as  they  ought  to  do  ;"  and 
pointing  to  some  that  were  hanging  against  the  wall,  he  added, 
"  before  you  came  here  I  used  to  feel  very  proud  of  those  shoes,  but 
now  it  makes  me  ill  to  look  at  them,  and  I  don't  think  I  could  ever 
make  one  like  them  again."  He  had  become  a  really  good  shoer, 
and  understood  how  to  fit  a  shoe  properly,  and  I  think  he  would  have 
found  it  a  difficult  job  to  fall  back  on  his  old  pattern  again.  His  fame 
soon  spread,  and  he  obtained  the  shoeing  of  all  the  gentlemen's  horses 
for  several  miles  around  him.  Similar  results  have  followed  in  other 
instances  where  I  have  bestowed  a  little  trouble,  and  I  must  say  that 
I  have  invariably  received  civility  and  attention  at  the  time  and  on 
many  occasions  expressions  cf  great  gratitude  afterwards. 

Many  persons  have  been  deterred  from  interfering  with  the  smith, 
because,  as  they  have  told  me,  they  knew  nothing  whatever  about  the 
anatomy  or  physiology  of  the  horse's  foot,  and  had  neither  the  time 
nor  the  inclination  to  study  it ;  but  such  knowledge  is  not  at  all 
necessary  to  a  thorough  acquaintance  witli  the  principle  and  practice 
of  horseshoeing ;  if  it  were,  they  might  well  be  excused  for  not 
attempting  it :  all  that  is  really  required  of  them  is  to  take  one  anat- 
omical and  one  physiological  fact  on  trust,  and  believe  that  the  horse's 


boof  is  lined  by  a  very  sensitive  membrane,  which  must 
ever  be  wounded,  and  that  the  hoof  itself  is  elastic,  and  e^ 
the  weijj^ht  of  the  horse  is  thrown  on  the  foot,  and  contraL 
taken  off  again;  all  the  rest  is  purely  meclianical  and  merely 
the  exercise  of  a  little  thought  and  patience  to  understand  the  ]f.  . 
pie  and  apply  it.  ^ 

But  before  I  enter  on  details  let  me  dispose  of  one  subject  that  has 
given  rise  to  much  unnecessary  thought  and  controversy — I  mean  the 
very  generally  entertained  notion,  that  particular  kinds  of  roads  and 
certain  kinds  of  work  call  for  separate  and  distinct  methods  of  shoe- 
ing— which  has  greatly  complicated  and  mystified  a  very  simple  and 
straightforward  matter :  the  truth  is,  that  no  system  of  shoeing  is 
worth  one  moment's  thought  or  consideration  that  will  not  answer 
equally  well  in  every,  description  of  ground,  and  for  every  kind  of 
work. 

It  has  been  supposed  that  the  hunter  forms  a  special  exception,  but 
the  experience  of  a  large  number  of  gentlemen  in  various  ])arts  of  the 
country  during  the  last  ten  years  has  entirely  dispelled  the  fallacy, 
and  proved  beyond  dispute  that  the  torture  inflicted  on  hunters  by 
nailing  the  shoes  from  heel  to  heel,  with  a  view  of  keei^ing  them  on 
their  feet,  is  an  unnecessary  act  of  cruelty  perpetrated  to  support  the 
notion,  that  deep  ground  would  pull  the  shoes  off  unless  they  were 
secured  by  extra  nails :  but  if  a  shoe  fits  the  foot  as  it  ought  to  do, 
and  is  perfectly  fastened  to  it  by  five  nails,  nothing  short  of  a  violent 
wrench  from  the  smith's  pincers  can  remove  it.  This  has  been 
proved  in  numbei-less  instances,  not  only  by  myself  but  by  others  ia 
various  hunting  countries,  who  have  kindly  communicated  to  me  the 
result  of  their  experience  after  a  fair  trial  of  the  plan  of  shoeing  and 
general  treatment  of  the  horse's  foot,  which  I  recommended  in  a  woi'k 
I  published  some  years  ago  on  that  subject,  and  which  an  officer  of 
Prussian  Hussars  desired  my  permission  to  translate  and  publish  in 
German  ;  and  he  writes  me  that  he  and  several  of  his  brother  officers 
have  had  their  horses  shod  as  1  have  directed,  and  that  they  never 
lost  a  shoe.  It  would  be  a  useless  waste  of  time  to  go  over  all  the 
proofs  again  ;  nevertheless,  as  I  am  now  wa-iting  for  agricultural 
readers,  it  is  desirable  that  I  should  be  able  to  show  to  them,  beyond 
the  possibility  of  doubt,  that  the  mode  of  shoeing  which  I  recommend 
will  stand  the  test  of  the  deep  clay  ground  their  horses  are  sometimes 
called  upon  to  work  in  ;  and  in  order  to  qualify  myself  to  speak  with 
autliority  in  this  matter,  I  have  lately  instituted  an  experiment  which 
I  tliink  will  carry  conviction  to  the  mind  of  the  most  sceptical. 

The  two  subjects  of  my  experiment  were  horses  employed  in  draw- 
ing materials  for  a  large  public  building  in  course  of  erection  in  a 
deep  clay  meadow,  and  I  chose  the  particular  time  for  making  the 
experiment,  because  the  unusual  quantity  of  rain  that  had  fallen 
during  the  preceding  six  weeks  had  rendered  the  ground,  both  in  the 
meadow  and  at  the  quarry  from  which  the  stone  was  drawn,  as  deep 
and  clinging  as  it  is  possible  to  conceive  ground  to  be.  One  of  the 
horses  was  the  property  of  the  builder,  and  the  other  belonged  to  the 
person  who  had  contracted  to  draw  the  stone  from  tlie  quarry,  and 
whose  horses  are  chiefly  employed  in  drawing  either  timber  or  stone, 

2 


10 

than  which  no  work  can  be  more  trying  to  the  security  of  horses' 
shoes  at  such  a  season,  and  in  such  a  county  as  Devon.  I  was  pres- 
ent at  the  shoeing  of  these  horses,  and  saw  them  both  shod  with  five 
nails  only  in  each  fore  shoe  and  a  clip  at  the  toe.  The  shoes  were 
plain  waggon-horse  shoes,  with  stamped  holes  and  no  fullering.  The 
builder's  horse  was  a  fair  average  cart  horse  15  hands  3^  inches  high, 
and  the  shoes  that  were  put  on  him  Aveighed  1  lb.  14  ozs.  each.  The 
contractor's  horse  was  a  heavy  waggon  horse  16  hands  and  an  inch 
high  ;  and  I  could  scarcely  have  found  a  fairer  subject  for  my  experi- 
ment :  he  has  remarkably  weak  feet,  with  hoofs  full  of  what  smiths 
call  shaky  places,  and  he  is  so  hot  and  impetuous  in  his  Avork  that  the 
driver  never  can  prevent  him  doing  much  more  than  his  share.  I  had 
one  of  his  shoes  measured  and  weighed  just  before  it  was  nailed  on, 
and  found  it  to  be  6  inches  across  from  side  to  side  at  the  quarters, 
and  7  inches  from  toe  to  heel,  and  it  weighed  exactly  2^  lbs.,  so  that 
each  nail  in  his  shoe  had  to  retain  half  a  pound  weight  of  ii'on  and 
hold  it  to  his  foot. 

I  visited  both  the  horses  at  the  end  of  a  fortnight,  and  found  their 
shoes  not  only  safe  on  their  feet,  but  not  a  clench  had  risen,  neither 
had  either  of  their  shoes  shifted  in  the  smallest  degree.  I  was  for- 
tunate enough  to  meet  the  larger  horse  coming  from  the  quarry  with 
a  load  of  stone,  and  anything  more  satisfactory  to  me,  as  regarded  my 
experiment,  or  less  satisfactory  to  the  poor  brute,  I  cannot  conceive  ; 
for  he  was  literally  plastered  up  to  the  knees  and  hocks  with  a  thick 
layer  of  red  clay,  and  the  spokes  of  the  wheels  were  in  a  like  condi- 
tion up  to  the  nave,  showing  pretty  clearly  the  kind  of  ground  he  had 
had  to  deal  with,  and  the  sort  of  test  that  had  been  applied  to  the 
security  of  his  shoes. 

At  the  expiration  of  another  fortnight  I  again  examined  the  shoes 
of  both  the  horses,  and  finding  those  of  the  larger  horse  completely 
worn  out,  I  had  them  taken  oft"  and  replaced  by  new  ones  fastened  by 
five  nails ;  the  shoes  of  the  other  horse  not  being  Avorn  out,  I  permit- 
ted him  to  carry  them  another  Aveek,  and  then,  considering  he  had 
worn  them  long  enough  for  my  purpose,  I  had  him  reshod  ;  but  Avish- 
ing  to  make  my  experiment  as  perfect  as  I  could,  I  had  tAVO  of  the 
nails  omitted,  and  shod  him  Avith  three  nails  only  in  each  fore  shoe ; 
and  at  the  end  of  four  weeks  I  saAV  him  at  Avork  Avith  his  shoes  safe 
on  his  feet.  I  do  not  mention  this  fact  Avith  the  view  of  trying  to 
persuade  others  to  shoe  their  horses  Avith  only  three  nails,  although  I 
have  not  had  more  than  three  nails  in  a  fore  shoe  of  any  horse  belong- 
ing to  me  for  several  years  past,  neither  do  I  intend  to  increase  the 
number :  I  merely  record  the  fact  to  show  that  no  one  need  fear  to 
trust  their  horses'  shoes  to  the  keeping  o{ five  nails. 

The  result  of  the  numberless  experiments  I  have  made  at  various 
times,  on  all  sorts  of  horses  doing  every  kind  of  Avork,  is,  that  there  is 
but  one  principle  to  be  observed  in  horseshoeing,  Avhich  Avill  admit  of 
no  variation  or  compromise  :  the  shoe  must  fit  the  foot,  whatever  the 
shape  of  the  foot  may  happen  to  he,  and  it  must  be  nailed  to  the  hoof 
in  such  a  manner  as  tvill  permit  the  foot  to  expand  to  the  weight  of  the 
horse ;  this  latter  condition  will  be  best  complied  Avith  by  placing 
three  nails  in  the  outer  limb   of  the  shoe,  and  tAvo  in  the  inner  limb 


11 

between  the  toe  and  the  commencement  of  the  inner  quarter  ;  a  larger 
number  than  five  nails  can  never  be  required  in  any  shoe  of  any  size, 
or  under  any  circumstances,  excepting  for  the  sole  purpose  of  coun- 
teracting defective  and  clumsy  fitting.  I  will  now  proceed  to  describe, 
as  shortly  as  I  can,  the  details  of  the  plan  I  recommend ;  and  if  it 
should  appear,  to  those  who  have  done  me  the  honor  to  read  what  I 
have  already  published,  that  I  have  repeated  myself,  I  can  only 
answer  that  the  details  .of  a  fixed  plan  will  admit  of  no  variation  in 
substance,  and  very  little  in  words. 

The  first  thing  requiring  attention  is  the  removal  of  the  old  shoes, 
which  should  be  done  with  much  more  care  than  is  usually  bestowed 
on  it,  and  without  any  of  that  violent  Avrenching  from  side  to  side  one 
too  often  witnesses,  whereby  the  clenches  are  dragged  through  the 
crust  by  main  force,  and  the  horn  wantonly  and  unnecessarily 
destroyed.  It  is  very  little  trouble  to  raise 'the  clenches  with  the 
buffer,  and,  if  the  nails  should  still  retain  a  firm  hold  and  resist  a 
moderate  effort  to  displace  the  shoe,  the  punch  should  be  used  to 
loosen  them,  so  as  to  cause  the  shoe  to  come  off  easily  and  without 
damage  to  the  hoof.  The  smith  will  be  amply  repaid  for  his  trouble 
by  the  unbroken  horn  he  will  find  to  nail  to,  and  the  firmer  hold  he 
will  obtain  for  his  nails  when  he  comes  to  nail  on  the  new  shoe. 
Having  taken  off  the  shoe  the  rasp  should  be  passed  round  the  lower 
edge  of  the  crust  before  the  foot  is  let  down,  to  remove  the  jagged 
edge,  and  also  to  ascertain  that  there  are  no  stubs  remaining  in  the 
horn  :  if  the  edge  is  not  rasped  it  is  apt  to  split  and  break  when  the 
horse  moves,  which  he  is  sure  to  do  as  soon  as  his  foot  is  on  the 
gi'ound  again.  No  horse  should  have  more  than  one  foot  bared  at  a 
time  ;  however  strong  his  feet  may  happen  to  be,  he  is  sure  to  stand 
quieter  on  a  shod  foot  than  he  can  on  a  bare  one,  and  it  will  prevent 
his  breaking  the  crust.  A  horse  with  weak  flat  feet  is  in  positive 
misery  when  forced  to  sustain  his  whole  weight  on  a  bare  foot,  while 
the  opposite  foot  is  held  up. 

Previous  to  preparing  the  foot  for  the  reception  of  the  new  shoe, 
we  must  consider,  first,  the  kind  of  foot  we  have  to  deal  with  ;  and 
next,  the  condition  of  the  roads  it  will  have  to  travel  upon ;  for  it 
would  be  manifestly  improper  to  pare  a  weak  flat  sole  as  much  as  a 
strong  arched  one,  or  to  pare  either  as  much  when  the  roads  are  hard 
and  covered  with  loose  stones  as  when  they  are  moist  and  even.  No 
general  rule,  therefore,  can  be  laid  down  that  would  apply  to  all  kinds 
of  feet,  or  indeed  to  the  same  foot  at  all  times  ;  the  amount  of  paring 
the  foot  is  to  undergo  must  entirely  depend  on  the  above  consid- 
erations. 

A  strong  foot  with  an  arched  sole,  when  the  roads  are  in  good 
order,  will  require  to  have  the  toe  shortened,  the  quarters  and  heels 
lowered,  and  the  sole  pared,  until  it  will  yield  in  some  slight  degree 
to  veiy  hard  pressure  from  the  thumb  ;  but  on  no  account  should  it 
ever  be  pared  thin  enough  to  yield  to  moderate  pressure :  the  angles 
formed  by  the  crust,  and  the  bars  at  the  heels,  must  be  cleared  out, 
and  all  the  dead  horn  removed  therefrom,  and  the  bars  should  be 
lowered  nearly  to  a  level  with  the  sole. 

A  weak  flat  foot,  on  the  contrary,  will  bear  no  shortening  of  the 


12 

toe,  and  very  little  paring  or  lowering  anywhere  ;  the  heels  of  such 
feet  are  sure  to  be  too  low  already,  and  the  sole  too  thin  :  in  fact,  the 
less  that  is  done  to  them  the  better  bej'-ond  clearing  out  the  dead  horn 
from  the  angles  at  the  heels,  and  making  the  crust  bear  evenly  on  the 
shoe ;  but  the  hollow  between  the  bars  and  the  frog,  or  the  frog 
itself,  must  never  be  touched  by  a  knife  in  any  foot,  whether  it  be  a 
weak  one  or  a  strong  one,  and  as  these  latter  directions  differ  so  ma- 
terially from  the  usual  practice  of  smiths,  I  may  perhaps  be  expected 
to  state  my  reasons  for  wishing  to  enforce  them  in  opposition  to  what 
they  no  doubt  consider  a  time-honored  custom ;  I  mean,  the  invete- 
rate habit  they  all  have  of  trimming  the  frog,  and  opening  out  the 
heels  at  every  shoeing ;  but  I  think  I  shall  be  able  to  show,  that  "  it 
is  a  custom  more  honored  in  the  breach  than  the  observance." 

The  bars  are  not  separate  and  distinct  portions  of  the  hoof,  but 
simply  continuations  of  the  crust  reflected  or  turned  back  at  each  heel 
in  the  direction  of  the  centre  of  the  sole,  where  they  meet  in  a  point 
and  form  a  triangular  space  for  the  reception  of  the  elastic  cushion, 
usually  called  the  sensible  frog  :  each  of  these  reflected  portions,  at 
its  deepest  part,  rises  about  an  inch  into  the  cavity  of  the  hoof,  and  is 
connected  at  its  upper  part,  throughout  its  whole  extent,  on  one  edge 
with  the  horny  sole,  and  on  the  other  with  the  horny  frog,  whereby 
the  horny  covering  of  the  foot  is  completed  and  made  continuous. 
This  doubling  back  of  the  crust  on  each  side,  from  the  heel  to  the 
point  of  the  frog,  together  with  the  increased  thickness  of  the  crust 
itself  at  the  extremity  of  each  heel,  is  evidently  designed  to  keep  the 
heels  apart,  and  prevent  their  pressing  inconveniently  on  the  struc- 
tures within  the  hoof;  and  if  the  substance  of  the  horn  be  thinned 
by  paring  the  sides  of  it,  it  is  clear  that  its  power  of  resistance  must 
be  diminished,  the  natural  action  of  the  foot  damaged,  and  the 
chance  of  contraction  greatly  increased.  Many  smiths,  who  are 
.merciless  in  paring  the  sides  of  the  bars,  which  ought  never  to  be 
touched  by  a  knife,  waste  much  time  and  patience  in  preserving  the 
portion  that  projects  beyond  the  surface  of  the  sole,  which  they  had 
better  have  pared  down  nearly  to  a  level  Avith  the  sole,  as  it  only 
impedes  the  removal  of  the  dead  horn  from  the  corner  of  the  sole  at 
the  heel,  and  would  have  been  worn  away,  if  the  presence  of  the  shoe 
had  not  prevented  it. 

The  frog  may  be  said  to  consist  of  three  portions,  viz.,  the  horny 
frog,  the  sensitive  frog,  and  a  thick  elastic  cushion,  which  is  interposed 
between  the  sensitive  frog  and  the  navicular  joint,  for  the  purpose  of 
protecting  this  important  little  joint  from  injury  :  the  portion,  how- 
ever, Avith  which  we  are  now  more  immediately  concerned,  as  con- 
nected with  the  mechanical  art  of  shoeing,  is  the  horny  frog. 

No  part  of  the  foot  shows  the  difference  between  good  shoeing  and 
bad  so  soon,  or  so  palpably,  as  the  frog.  The  frog  of  a  foot  that  has 
been  well  shod  for  some  time  presents  a  full,  plump  appearance,  with 
an  even  surface  and  a  broad  oval  cleft,  with  a  Avell-defined  edge,  not 
broken  through  at  the  back ;  whereas  a  frog,  that  has  been  long  sub- 
jected to  bad  treatment,  is  shrunk  and  hard,  with  a  ragged  uneven 
surface  and  a  narrow  cleft  broken  through  at  the  back,  and  extending 
up  between  the  bulbs  of  the  heels.     The  horii  of  the  frog  is  thinner 


13 

and  of  a  closer  and  more  delicate  texture  than  the  horn  of  the  hoof, 
and  is  evidcntl}'  intended  not  only  to  protect  tlie  parts  immediately 
above  it,  but  alj^o  to  i)revent  the  evaporation  of  the  moisture  wiiich 
keeps  these  parts  in  a  soft,  yielding  condition  ;  but  it  cuts  so  easily, 
and  looks  so  clean  and  trim  when  its  surface  is  pared  off",  that  very 
few  smiths  indeed  can  be  prevailed  on  to  leave  it  alone,  and  not  even 
cut  off  the  rags ;  nevertheless  they  had  better  do  so,  for  those  very 
rags  which  they  think  it  desirable  to  remove  were  caused  by  paring 
off  the  surface  of  the  horn  at  the  last  shoeing,  whereby  a  part  was 
lain  bare  that  never  was  intended  to  be  exposed  to  the  action  of  the 
air,  and  which  in  consequence  became  dry  and  hard,  and  soon 
cracked,  and  the  edges  having  curled  outwards  formed  the  rags  which 
are  so  offensive  to  the  eye  of  the  smith  ;  and,  if  he  should  be  tempt- 
ed to  remove  them,  he  will  again  lay  the  foundation  of  other  cracks 
and  other  rags,  until  at  last  the  frog  will  have  dwindled  down  by 
small  degrees  to  half  its  original  size.  Now  if,  instead  of  persisting 
in  this  gradual  work  of  destruction,  he  would  only  leave  the  frog 
alone,  and  never  touch  it  with  a  knife,  the  rags  in  due  time  would 
entirely  disappear,  and  the  frog  become  covered  by  a  coating  of  newly 
secieted  horn.  The  horn  of  the  frog,  when  left  to  itself,  is  always 
undergoing  a  process  of  exfoliation  and  reproduction.  The  exfoliation 
for  the  most  part  occurs  in  small  particles,  resembling  the  dust  which 
adheres  to  Tui-key  figs  ;  but  at  other  times  the  whole  surface  of  the 
frog  Avill  exfoliate  in  a  mass,  leaving  a  smaller,  but  still  perfect,  frog 
beneath,  covered  with  sound  horn.  The  small  particles  of  exfoliated 
horn  may  best  be  seen  in  the  feet  of  horses  shod  with  leather,  where 
the  artificial  covering  has  prevented  their  escape  ;  and  so  little  is  this 
natural  process  of  exfoliation  understood  by  horse-masters  in  general, 
that  I  have  frequently  had  my  attention  gravely  directed  to  the  accu- 
mulation of  these  particles,  as  unmistakable  evidence  of  the  leather 
having  rotted  the  frog. 

The  shoe  should  be  neither  too  light,  nor  too  narrow  in  the  web : 
light  shoes  are  apt  to  bend  before  they  are  half  worn  out,  and  narrow- 
webbed  shoes  expose  the  sole  and  frog  to  unnecessary  injury  from 
stones  in  the  road.  Every  fore-shoe  should  be  more  or  less  seated 
on  the  foot-surface,  to  prevent  it  pressing  on  and  bruising  the  sole  ; 
but  a  perfectly  fiat  surface  should  be  preserved  around  the  edge  of 
the  foot-surface  of  the  shoe  from  heel  to  heel  for  the  crust  to  rest 
upon.  The  amount  of  seating  to  be  employed  must  be  determined  by 
the  description  of  foot  to  be  shod  ;  for  instance,  a  broad  foot,  with  a 
flat  sole  and  weak  horn,  will  require  a  wide  web,  considerably  seated, 
to  prevent  it  coming  in  contact  with  the  sole  and  bruising  it  ;  but  a 
narrow  foot,  with  an  arched  sole  and  strong  horn,  will  require  less 
width  of  web  and  less  seating,  otherwise  the  dirt  and  grit  of  the  road 
would  become  impacted  between  the  shoe  and  the  sole,  and  cause  as 
much  pressure  and  injury  as  the  iron  would  have  done. 

The  safest  guide  to  the  proper  amount  of  seating  is  to  apply  the 
shoe  to  the  foot,  and  observe  whether  there  is  room  for  a  picker  to 
pass  freely  between  the  shoe  and  the  sole  ;  if  there  should  not  be  suf- 
ficient space  for  a  free  passage  all  round  the  shoe  the  seating  must  be 
increased  ;  and  if  there  should  be  more  than  is  necessary,  it  must  be 


14 


diminished.  The  smith,  having  carefully  prepared  the  foot,  and 
selected  a  shoe  with  a  proper  amount  of  seating  for  it,  has  next  to  cut 
off  the  heels,  and  fit  the  shoe  to  the  foot ;  and  he  must  always  bear 
in  mind  that  fitting  the  shoe  to  the  foot  does  not  mean  fitting  i\\Q  foot 
to  the  shoe — an  error  that  smiths  are  prone  to  fall  into. 

I  have  very  frequently  had  occasion  to  remind  a  smith,  that  he  was 
saving  himself  trouble  at  the  expense  of  the  horse  by  accommodating 
the  foot  to  the  shoe,  instead  of  altering  the  shoe  to  the  foot ;  and  it 
must  be  confessed,  that  unless  a  smith  is  encouraged  to  take  an  inter- 
est in  his  work,  by  the  owner  of  the  horse  paying  an  occasional  visit 
to  the  forge,  and  showing  that  he,  too,  is  interested,  it  is  very  tempt- 
ing to  him,  when  he  finds  the  foot  and  the  shoe  do  not  come  well 
together,  to  adopt  the  more  expeditious  and  less 
troublesome  course  of  sul)stituting  the  knife  and  rasp 
for  the  hammer  and  anvil.  Every  forge  is  expected 
to  be  supplied  with  stoi'e  shoes  "  turned  in  the  rough," 
and  if  they  were  left  longer  in  proportion  to  their  width, 
and  straighter  at  the  quarters,  with  the  heels  wider 
apart  than  we  usually  find  them,  the  labor  of  fitting 
the  foot  accurately  would  be  greatly  diminished,  as  we 
shall  see  when  we  come  to  consider  that  part  of  our 
subject.  The  first  thing,  however,  that  demands  our 
attention  is  the  mode  of  cutting  off  the  heels  to  the  re- 
quii'ed  length  ;  and  for  this  purpose  a  curved  chisel, 
as  shown  in  Fig.  1,  is  a  more  convenient  tool  than  a 
straight  one,  and  saves  the  smith  much  trouble  in 
"  filing  up"  the  shoe  before  he  nails  it  to  the  foot ;  it 
removes  the  corners  and  rounds  the  points  of  the  heels 
at  once,  and  enables  him  to  fit  the  heels  of  the  shoe  to 
the  heels  of  the  hoof  with  greater  nicety  than  he  can 
possibly  do  when  they  are  cut  off  square.  The  best 
rig.  1.  manner  of  proceeding  is  to  remove  a  small  corner 
from  the  outer  rim  on  each  side,  and  a  larger  and  longer  por- 
tion from  the   inner   rim,  as  shown   by  the   dotted   lines  ABC, 

in  Fig.  2.  By  this  mode 
of  cutting  off  the  heels 
the  outer  rim  of  the  shoe 
is  lengthened,  and  the 
inner  rim  shortened,  with- 
out diminishing  the  width 
of  the  web,  as  shown  at 
A  C,  in  Fig.  3.  After  the 
heels  have  been  cut  ofi^  as 
directed  above,  the  nail- 
holes  should  be  opened  ; 
and  the  best  mode  of  do- 
ing it  is  to  make  them 
pass  straight  through  the 
shoe,  instead  of  inclining 
inwards  in  the  direction 
of  the  centre  of  the  hoof, 
as  is    almost    invariably 


15 


done,  the  effect  of  which  is  to  convert  a  simple  and  safe  operation 
into  one  of  difficulty  and 
danger,  for  the  nails  must 
first  be  driven  with  their 
points  inclining  inwards, 
and  then  outwards,  until 
at  last  they  emerge  high 
up  in  the  thinnest  part  of 
the  crust,  having  split 
their  way  out  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  fibres  of  the 
horn,  with  a  great  proba- 
bility of  some  portion  of 
the  shanks  lying  so  close 
to  the  sensitive  lining  of 
the  hoof  as  to  press  upon 
it  when  the  foot  is  in  ac- 
tion and  expands.  Where 
the  holes  are  thus  made 

to  incline  inwards  it  requires  considerable  dexterity  to  drive  the  nails 
so  as  to  steer  clear  of  the  many  dangers  that  lie  in  the  way.  I  do 
not  allude  to  the  graver  matter  of  pricking  the  foot,  as  it  is  called,  but 
to  the  thousand  and  one  varying  degrees  of  pressure  from  the  shanks 
of  the  nails,  causing  constant  uneasiness,  or,  it  may  be,  pain  in  the 
foot.  If  the  quick  has  been  wounded  the  horse  soon  tells  the  tale,  but 
if  he  is  only  uneasy  from  pressure,  he  bears  it  patiently,  and  it  is 
never  known  to  his  master,  although  it  is  very  frequently  the  unsus- 
pected cause  of  broken  knees. 

We  hear  much  about  rolling  stones  in  the  road  causing  broken 
knees ;  a  rolling  stone  is  a  very  convenient  scapegoat  for  a  large 
amount  of  bad  riding,  bad  driving,  and  bad  shoeing ;  but,  I  take  it, 
■we  should  be  much  nearer  the  truth,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  if  we 
attributed  the  misfortune  to  misplaced  nails,  driven  through  holes 
slanting  inwards.  When  the  nail-holes  are  made  to  pass  straight 
through  the  substance  of  the  iron,  and  the  angle  at  which  the  hoof 
meets  the  shoe  is  considered,  it  will  be  self-evident  that  nails,  driven 
straight  through  those  holes,  must  cross  the  grain  of  the  horn  and 
come  out  low  in  the  crust,  presenting  the  strongest  portion  of  the 
shank  for  a  clench ;  and  my  experience  tends  to  show,  that  nails  so 
driven  obtain  a  much  firmer  hold  in  consequence  of  their  piercing  the 
horn  across  the  grain,  than  nails  driven  higher  up  the  crust  with  the 
grain. 

A  few  observations  on  the  fuller,  or  groove  in  which  the  nail-holes 
are  stamped,  may  not  be  out  of  place  here,  with  a  view  to  correct  an 
error  that  almost  all  smiths  fall  into,  of  making  their  fullering-irons 
so  fine  and  thin,  that  the  grooves  produced  by  them  will  not  permit 
the  heads  of  the  nails  to  sink  into  them  as  they  ought  to  do.  They 
appear  to  forget  that  the  safety  of  a  half-worn-out  shoe  depends  on 
the  heads  of  the  nails  having  sunk  well  into  the  groove,  and  fiiirly 
blocked  the  bottom  of  the  holes.  They  are  all  impressed  with  the 
notion  that  a  narrow  fuller,  with  sharp  well-defined  edges,  looks  neat 


16 

and  indicates  skilful  workmanship  ;  and  perhaps  it  does  look  neater 
than  a  coarse,  open  groove,  but  it  is  attended  with  the  great  disad- 
vantage of  being  much  less  useful.  An  open  fuller  affords  more  space 
for  the  head  of  the  nail,  and  prevents  its  becoming  tied  in  the  upper 
part  of  the  groove  before  the  lower  portion  has  descended  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  hole,  which  invariably  happens  when  the  fuller  is  deep  and 
narrow. 

Horseshoeing  at  best  is  but  a  necessary  evil,  and  cannot  be  elevated 
to  the  rank  of  an  ornamental  art ;  smiths  had  better,  therefore,  confine 
their  views  to  the  utilitarian  principle  entirely,  and  thereby  endeavor 
to  make  it  as  little  hurtful  to  the  horse,  and  as  little  inconvenient  to 
his  master,  as  they  possibly  can. 

Having  cut  ofi"  the  heels  and  opened  the  nail-holes,  the  next  thing 
to  be  done  is  to  turn  up  a  clip  at  the  toe  preparatory  to  fitting  the 
shoe  to  the  foot,  which  latter  operation  should  always  be  commenced 
at  the  front  of  the  foot,  and  be  gradually  and  carefully  carried  back 
to  the  quarters  and  heels.  Every  shoe  should  have  a  clip  at  the  toe, 
to  prevent  the  shoe  being  driven  back  on  the  foot  and  bending  the 
nails  in  the  crust ;  but  I  strongly  object  to  the  clip,  which  I  often  see 
turned  up  on  the  outside  of  a  shoe,  which  is  not  only  useless  but  de- 
stroys more  horn  than  two  or  three  nails  would  do. 

No  one  doubts  the  fact  of  horses  travelling  safer  and  better  in  shoes 
a  week  or  two  old  than  they  do  in  perfectly  new  ones ;  and  this 
arises  from  the  fact  of  their  having  worn  away  a  portion  of  the  iron 
at  the  toe,  and  thereby  diminished  the  jar  which  the  foot  had  previ- 
ously received  from  the  front  of  the  toe  coming  in  direct  contact  with 
the  surface  of  the  road.  In  order  to  relieve  the  horse  from  any  unne- 
cessary jar  to  the  foot  I  always  have  the  whole  breadth  of  the  toe  of 
the  shoe  turned  up,  so  as  to  raise  the  ground-surface  of  the  shoe  at 
the  toe  above  the  level  of  the  ground,  by  which  arrangement  horses 
are  found  to  trip  less,  and  put  their  feet  down  with  greater  confidence. 
Tlie  plan  of  welding  a  lump  of  steel  on  to  the  toe  of  the  shoe  only 
makes  bad  worse  ;  it  increases  the  jar,  is  longer  wearing  away  and 
causes  the  horse^  to  trip  more  and  for  a  greater  length  of  time  ; 
whereas  turning  up  the  toe  of  the  shoe  obviates  the  evil  at  once,  and 
makes  the  shoe  last  quite  as  long  as  the  steel  would  have  done.  All 
feet  will  not  bear  the  same  amount  of  elevation  of  the  toe  :  strong 
feet  will  bear  a  good  deal,  but  flat  feet  with  weak  horn  will  bear  only 
a  little ;  still  that  little  should  be  imparted  to  the  shoe.  The  old 
shoe,  placed  on  a  flat  surface,  will  afford  a  very  good  guide  to  the 
amount  of  elevation  to  be  given  to  the  toe  of  the  new  shoe,  provided 
the  old  one  is  not  worn  so  much  as  to  be  thoi'oughly  and  entirely 
worn  out. 

A  very  convenient  and  handy  tool  for  turning  up  the  toe  of  a  shoe 
may  be  made  by  welding  a  piece  of  bar-iron  five  inches  long,  one  inch 
broad,  and  somewhat  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  inch  thick,  crosswise 
on  to  each  blade  of  a  pair  of  smith's  tongs.  Any  smith  can  manufac- 
ture such  a  tool  for  himself,  and  will  find  it  very  useful  by  enabling 
hira  to  grasp  both  limbs  of  the  shoe  at  the  same  time,  and  turn  up 
the  toe  over  the  end  of  the  anvil  without  twisting  the  shoe,  which  he 
could  not  do  with  common  tongs  ;    and  he  can  easily  restore  the  seat- 


17 


Fi^r.  4 


ins  at  the  toe  by  merely  turning  the  shoe  on  the  anvil.     Fig.  4  will 
show  this   tool  in  use. 


Having  turned  up  the 
toe  of  tlie  shoe  and  fit- 
ted it  carefully  to  the 
toe  of  the  hoof,  the 
smith  must  direct  his 
attention  to  the  quar- 
ters and  heels,  and 
whatever  shape  they 
may  happen  to  take, 
that  shape  must  be  im- 
plicitly followed  by  the 
shoe;  whether  the  quar- 
ters be  straight  or  curv- 
ed, or  the  heels  narrow 
or  open,  the  shoe  must 
follow  the  same  shape  ; 
it  is  a  grievous  mistake 
to  suppose,  as  too  many  persons  do,  that  it  is  in  the  power  of  the 
smith  to  change  the  form  of  the  foot  by  merely  changing  the  form  of 
the  shoe :  what  are  called  open-heeled  shoes  will  not  make  open- 
heeled  feet.  The  situation  of  the  nails  alone  can  alter  the  form  of  the 
foot,  either  by  preventing  or  permitting  the  hoof  to  expand  to  the 
weight  of  the  horse.  If  the  shoe  is  nailed  from  heel  to  heel  the  hoof 
cannot  expand,  and  the  foot  must  become  damaged;  but  if  it  be  nail- 
ed, as  I  direct,  with  three  nails  on  the  outside  and  two  on  the  inside, 
a  foot,  that  has  been  already  damaged  by  bad  shoeing,  may  to  a  great 
extent  be  restored  by  thus  permitting  the  foot  to  expand. 

As  a  general  rule,  the  first  nail  on  the  outside  should  be  placed  an 
inch  and  a  half  from  the  centre  of  the  toe,  the  second  in  the  middle  of 
the  quarter,  and  the  third  just  behind  the  quarter ;  and  on  the  inside, 
the  first  nail  should  be  rather  more  than  an  inch  from  the  centre  of 
the  toe,  and  the  second  about  three-quarters  of  an  inch  behind  it;  by 
this  arrangement  the  whole  of  the  inner  quarter  and  heel  are  left  un- 
fettered and  free  to  expand,  and  any  undue  pressure  on  the  sensitive 
parts  of  the  foot,  from  the  descent  of  the  bones  into  the  hoof,  is  avoid- 
ed. P'itting  the  heels  will  call  for  a  little  extra  care  at  first,  as  it 
involves  the  abandonment  of  some  deep-rooted  prejudices  and  ground- 
less fears.  First,  the  prejudice  in  favor  of  square  heels  projecting 
beyond  the  hoof,  both  behind  and  at  the  sides,  must  be  yielded ;  and 
the  fear  lest  the  smallest  portion  of  the  shoe  should  happen  to  touch 
the  frog  must  be  given  up,  before  anything  like  accurate  fitting  can 
be  obtained.  The  edge  of  the  shoe  must  be  made  to  correspond  with 
the  edge  of  the  hoof  all  round,  from  heel  to  heel,  and  to  do  this  effec- 
tually, and  to  keep  the  web  of  the  shoe  as  wide  at  the  heels  as  it  is  at  the 
toe,  the  heels  must  be  brought  in  until  they  very  nearly  touch  the  frog. 
I  would  not  have  them  bear  on  the  frog,  but  1  would  rather  see  them 
touch  it  than  be  able  to  lay  ray  finger  between  the  frog  and  the  shoe. 

There  are  many  advantages  attending  the  bringing  in  of  the  heels, 

and  not  one  single  disadvantage  to  set  against    them.     In   the  first 

place,  it  removes  all  the  points  and  projections  by  which  stiff  ground 

is  enabled  to  pull  off  the  shoe ;    in  the  next  place,  it  affords  a  good, 

3 


18 


firm,  flat  surface  for  the  heels  of  the  hoof  to  rest  upon,  and,  hj  bring- 
ing the  sides  of  the  shoe  nearer  together,  the  navicular  joint,  which 
lies  in  the  hoof  above  the  frog  and  about  an  inch  from  its  point,  is 
saved  from  many  an  unlucky  jar  from  a  stone  in  the  road, by  the  shoe 
receiving  it  instead  of  the  frog.  The  shoe  must  not  only  fit  the  edge 
of  the  crust,  but  the  whole  of  the  crust  must  have  an  even  bearing  on 
the  shoe,  and  this  can  only  be  effected  by  making  the  shoe  hot 
enough  to  scorch  the  horn,  and  applying  it  to  the  foot.  The  quantity 
of  horn  to  be  thus  destroyed,  when  the  foot  and  shoe  have  both  been 
made  as  level  as  the  smith  can  make  them,  is  very  inconsiderable,  and 
the  heat  so  applied  can  do  no  harm.  I  would  not  have  the  shoe  burnt 
into  its  place  on  the  foot  witliout  previous  preparation,  as  is  very  often 
done  to  save  a  little  trouble,  but  I  would  have  the  hot  shoe  applied  so 
as  to  insure  a  close  fit  all  round.  A  thin,  weak  hoof  will  not  bear  as 
much  heat,  without  inconvenience  to  the  horse,  as  a  sti'ong  one  ;  but 
as  a  close  fit  is  of  even  more  importance  to  a  weak  hoof  than  it  is  to 
a  strong  one,  it  is  essential  that  the  shoe  be  applied  to  it  hot  enough 
to  scorch  the  projecting  portions  of  horn,  in  order  that  they  may  be 
seen,  and  removed  by  a  rasp. 

It  is  a  very  good  plan,  in  fitting  the  shoe  to  the  inner  quarter  and 
heel,  to  keep  the  rim  of  the  ground-surface  of  the  web  within  the  rim 
of  the  foot-surface,  somewhat  after  the  fashion  of  the  shoe  in  common 
use  for  preventing  cutting  ;  it  enables  the  horse  to  withdraw  his  shoe 
from  stiiF  ground  without  the  chance  of  leaving  it  behind  him,  which 
he  will  inevitably  do  if  any  portion  of  the  shoe  is  permitted  to  project 
beyond  the  hoof  When  the  shoe  has  been  carefully  fitted  to  the  foot 
it  must  be  cooled  and  "  back -holed  ;"  that  is,  the  nail-holes  must  be 
opened  on  the  foot-surface  of  the  shoe  ;  and  in  doing  this  care  must 
be  taken  to  break  down  the  outer  edge  of  all  the  holes,  so  that  the  nail 
may  pass  straight  through  the  shoe  without  any  inclination  inwards, 
and  the  openings  should  be  made  large  and  free,  to  prevent  the  shank 
of  the  nail  becoming  tied  in  the  hole  before  the  head  has  been  driven 
fairly  home. 

The  shoe  has  .then  to  be  "  filed  up"  preparatory  to  being  nailed  to 

the  foot ;  and  I  may  here 
observe,  that  much  time 
and  labor  are  generally 
wasted  in  polishing  por- 
tions of  the  shoe  which 
might  very  well  be  left 
alone  ;  all  that  is  really 
necessary  is  to  round  oif 
the  sharp  edges,  remove 
any  "  burs"  that  may 
project  from  the  surface, 
and  file  the  foot-surface 
of  the  heels,  as  shown  at 
F,  in  Fig.  5.  Fig.  5 
shows  the  foot-surface  of 
a  near  fore-shoe  ;  A,  the 
clip  at  the  toe ;  B  1, 
the  outer  quarter  ;  B  2, 


B2 


19 


Bl 


the  inner  quarter  ;  C  1,  the  outer  heel ;  C  2,  the  inner  heel ;  D, 
the  seating;  E,  an  even  flat  surface  from  heel  to  heel  for  the  crust  to 
bear  upon,  and  in  which  the  nail-holes  must  be  placed.  They  must 
never  be  permitted  to  encroach  on  the  seating,  but  be  always  confined 
to  this  flat  surface;  F,  the  ends  of  the  heels  filed  away  in  a  direction 
upwards  and  outwards,  the  object  being  to  prevent  pressure  on  the 
frog  Avithout  diminishing  the  width  of  the  web  on  the  ground-surface 
of  the  shoe.  Fig.  G,  the  ground-surface  of  the  same  shoe.  A,  the 
toe  turned  up  out  of  the  line  of  wear ;  B  1,  the  outer  quarter ;  B  2, 
the    inner   quarter ;    C  j^ 

1  and  C  2,  the  heels ; 
Avith  D,  the  web  as  Avide 
as  at  any  other  portion 
of  the  shoe  ;  E,  the  ful- 
ler. It  Avill  be  observ- 
ed that  the  inner  quar- 
ter of  the  shoe,  marked 
B  2  in  each  of  the  fig- 
ures, is  considerably 
straighter  than  the  out- 
er quarter  marked  B  1, 
which  is  the  natural 
shape  of  a  well-formed 
foot :  the  inner  quarter 
is  not  only  straighter 
and  more  upright  than 
the  outer  quarter,  but 
the  crust  is  thinner  and 
more  elastic,  and  consequently  expands  in  a  greater  degree  to  the 
horse's  Aveight ;  but  when  Ave  talk  of  the  hoof  being  elastic  and  the 
foot  expanding,  we  would  by  no  means  have  it  inferred  that  they 
bear  any  relation  to  the  elasticity  or  expansion  of  India-rubber  ;  if 
they  did,  the  bones  of  the  foot  Avould  be  thrust  through  the  hoof  dur- 
ing violent  action,  or  in  a  doAvn  leap.  The  elasticity  and  expansion 
are  small  in  degree,  scarcely  exceeding  the  eighth  of  an  inch  in  the 
feet  of  most  horses,  that  have  been  several  times  shod,  but  they  are 
most  important  in  their  consequences,  by  affording  exactly  the  amount 
of  enlargement  of  the  cavity  necessary  for  the  descent  of  the  bones  of 
the  foot,  without  squeezing  the  sensitive  parts  Avhich  line  the  hoof 

Before  I  say  anything  about  nailing  the  shoe  to  the  foot,  I  have  a 
feAV  observations  to  offer  on  the  nails  usually  employed  for  the  pur- 
pose, Avhich  ai-e  very  defective  in  form  and  ill-contrived  for  obtaining 
a  firm  and  lasting  hold,  although  I  am  bound  to  confess  that  I  have 
lately  seen  a  manifest  improvement  in  some  of  the  nails  of  commerce  ; 
but  the  general  run  of  them  are  made  Avith  heads  so  short,  square 
and  broad  at  the  top,  and  so  small  and  narrow  at  the  bottom,  Avith 
shanks  springing  suddenly  from  them,  that  the  upper  part  becomes 
tied  in  the  fuller  before  the  loAver  part  has  reached  the  bottom  of 
the  hole,  and  the  consequence  is,  that  the  bottom  of  the  hole  is 
occupied  by  the  shank  alone,  and  before  the  shoe  is  Avorn  out  the 


20 


head  of  the  nail  is  gone,  and  little  more  than  a  brad  remains  to 
retain  the  shoe. 

The  smiths  Avho  shoe  my  horses  make  their  own  nails,  and  I  re- 
commend others  to  do  the  like,  at  least  for  the  better  class  of  horses  ; 
it  gives  them  an  opportunity  of  choosing  their  rods,  making  their  nails 
of  a  better  shape,  and  cooling  them  more  gradually  than  the  whole- 
sale manufacturers  do,  whereby  they  are  rendered  tougher  and  less 
liable  to  break.  The  head  of  the  nail  should  be  oblong  on  the  top, 
straight-sided  at  the  upper  part,  and  die  away  gradually  into  the 
shank  with  a  broadish  shoulder,  to  fill  the  opening  made  by  "  back- 
holeing "  the  shoe  ;  hence  the  necessity  for  these  openings  being 
larger  and  freer  than  they  are  usually  made.  A  nail  so  formed  will 
always  retain  the  semblance  of  a  head,  and  can  never  be  reduced  to 
a  mere  headless  brad.  The  shank  should  be  less  taper,  and  the 
point  less  elongated,  than  those  of  the  nails  in  common  use.  The 
shorter  point  and  broader  shank  supply  a  firmer  and  better  clench. 
Fig.  7  represents  the  two  nails  I  have  been  en- 
deavoring to  describe  ;  but  a  comparison  of  the 
letters  attached  to  each  will  perhaps  convey  more 
clearly  what  I  mean  than  my  words  may  have 
done.  When  the  nail-holes  are  in  the  right 
places  and  pass  straight  through  the  shoe,  and 
the  shoe  has  been  pi'operly  fitted  to  the  foot,  the 
difficulty  of  nailing  it  on  is  reduced  to  nothing, 
and  might  almost  be  handed  over  to  a  carpenter 
to  do  with  as  much  confidence  as  to  a  smith ;  the 
nails  have  only  to  be  driven  straight,  and  they 
must  pass  through  the  shoe,  across  the  substance 
of  the  horn,  avoid  the  sensitive  parts  altogether, 
and  come  out  in  their  right  places,  presenting  the 
strongest  portion  of  the  shank  for  a  clench,  in- 
stead of  the  thin  narrow  point ;  the  smith  has 
then  only  to  twist  oif  the  projecting  portion  of 
the  nails,  cut  a  notch  in  the  hoof  to  receive  the 
turned-down  clench,  and  bury  it  with  his  ham- 
mer in  the  notch  so  formed,  and  not  touch  it 
again  with  a  rasp  ;  in  fact,  a  rasp  should  on  no  account  whatever  be 
applied  to  the  surface  of  the  hoof  above  the  clenches  ;  it  tears  and 
destroys  nature's  covering,  designed  to  keep  the  horn  moist  and  tough, 
and  renders  it  dry  and  brittle. 

I  shall,  no  doubt,  astonish  some  persons  when  I  assert  that  nearly 
all  the  evils  incident  to  horseshoeing  are  attributable  to  the  affectation 
and  dandyism  of  the  smith,  who  is  not  contented  to  follow  a  necessary 
and  useful  art,  simple  in  its  mechanical  parts,  but  calling  for  the  exer- 
cise of  some  judgment  in  its  application,  but  he  must  import  into  it 
dangerous  difficukies  and  mischievous  ornament :  for  instance,  he 
assumes  that  a  deep  naiTOw  fuller,  with  small  nail-holes  inclining 
inwards,  and  still  smaller  openings  on  the  foot  surface  of  the  shoe, 
present  a  neat,  trim  appearance,  and  shoAV  that  he  is  master  of  his 
art ;  knowing  full  well,  that  nothing  but  long  jiractice  could  enable 
any  one  to  navigate  a  nail  safely  through  a  channel  beset  by  so  many 


21 


dangers ;  but  he  entirely  overlooks  the  fact  that  the  power  to  do  so 
has  nothing  to  recommend  it  but  the  danger  and  risk  attending  the 
pertbrmance.  Again,  he  imagines,  that  a  hoof  carefully  rasped  all 
over  imparts  an  air  of  finish  to  his  Avork,  of  which  he  feels  proud,  for- 
getting altogether  that  he  has  removed  a  most  important  covering 
from  the  hoof,  for  which  no  amount  of  ornamental  finish  can  com- 
pensate. 

I  am  anxious  again  to  impress  on  smiths  and  their  employers  that 
horseshoeing  is  at  best  but  a  necessary  evil,  and  that  any  attempt  to 
raise  it  to  the  rank  of  an  ornamental  art  must  be  attended  with  dam- 
age to  the  horse  and  inconvenience  to  its  owner.  My  sole  object  is 
to  render  it  as  safe,  simple,  and  useful  as  possible ;  to  divest  it  of  all 
difficult  and  dandy  crotchets  in  its  application,  and  reduce  it  to  one 
principle,  to  be  carried  out  in  the  shoeing  of  all  sorts  of  horses,  at  all 
sorts  of  work. 

This  principle,  which  admits  of  no  variation,  may  be  summed  up  as 
follows :  the  shoe  must  fit  the  foot  from  heel  to  heel,  whatever  the 
shape  of  the  foot  may  be,  and  the  crust  must  have  an  equable  bearing 
on  the  shoe  all  round ;  the  toe  of  the  shoe  must  have  a  clip  in  the 
centre,  and,  when  the  foot  will  bear  it,  the  toe  must  be  elevated  from 
the  ground  ;  the  nail-holes  must  be  so  placed  as  not  to  encroach  on 
the  inner  quarter,  but  leave  the  inner  quarter  and  heel  free  to  ex- 
pand, and  they  must  pass  straight  through  the  shoe ;  the  frog  must 
never  be  touched  by  a  knife,  or  the  surface  of  the  hoof  by  a  rasp. 
The  detail  may  fairly  be  left  to  the  judgment  of  the  smith,  who  will 
be  able  to  determine  the  de- 
scription of  shoe  best  calcu- 
lated to  meet  the  requirements 
of  the  foot  that  he  has  to  deal 
with  ;  he  will  have  to  consider 
whether  it  is  strong  and  up- 
right, or  weak  and  flat,  and 
be  guided  by  those  circum- 
stances as  to  the  substance, 
width  of  web,  and  amount  of 
seating  the  shoe  must  possess, 
and  also  the  degree  of  eleva- 
tion of  the  toe  the  foot  will 
bear.  These  are  matters  of 
detail  infringing  no  part  of  the 
principle,  and  may  and  ought 
to  be  left  to  the  experience 
and  judgment  of  the  smith. 
Fig.  8  represents  the  ground 
surface  of  a  near   fore   foot, 

shod  as  it  ought  to  be,  and  Fig.  9  represents  the  same  foot,  with  the 
shoe  rendered  transparent,  showing  the  portions  of  the  foot  that  are 
covered  and  protected  by  it,  A  the  crust,  B  the  bars,  and  C  the 
heels ;  it  will  be  seen,  moreover,  how  bringing  in  the  heels  dimin- 
ishes the  opening  of  the  shoe  and  lessens  the  chance  of  stones  in  the 


22 


road  bruising  the  frog ;  one  side  or  other  of  the  shoe  would  ahght 
upon  them  and  save  the  frog.  I  may  observe  in  passing,  that  corns 
have  never  failed  to  disappear  under  this  mode  of  shoeing  ;  they  are 

always  the  consequence  of 
bad  shoeing,  and  good  shoe- 
ing always  removes  them.  I 
could  not  kee})  a  corn  in  my 
stable,  if  I  desired  it  ever  so 
much,  unless  I  altez'ed  my 
plan  of  shoeing.  A  large 
number  of  flat-footed  horses 
cannot  go  safely  at  any  time 
without  some  protection  over 
the  sole,  and  all  horses  would 
be  benefited  by  it  when  the 
roads  are  strewed  with  loose 
stones  ;  but  it  is  a  mistake  to 
suppose  that  leather,  or  any 
substitute  for  it,  inserted  be- 
tween the  shoe  and  foot,  calls 
for  a  greater  amount  of  fast- 
ening than  five  nails ;  they 
Avill  retain  a  shoe,  with  leather 
under  it,  as  firmly  as  if  the  leather  were  not  there :  all  that  is  re- 
quired is,  to  make  the  leather  fit  the  shoe  as  accurately  as  I  desire 
the  shoe  to  fit  the  foot,  and  that  no  projecting  portions  be  left  either 
behind  or  at  the  sides  of  the  heels,  and  instead  of  the  leather  being 
cut  square  at  the  heels,  I  would  have  it  slightly  ai-ched  inwards  from 
heel  to  heel.  It  is  necessary,  however,  to  prepare  the  foot,  before 
the  leather  is  put  on,  and  the  best  way  of  doing  it  is  to  smear  the 
whole  lower  surface  of  the  foot  and  frog  with  common  tar ;  gas-tar 
must  be  especially  avoided,  as  it  dries  and  hardens  the  horn,  instead 
of  keeping  it  moist  and  promoting  its  growth,  as  common  tar  does ; 
then  the  hollow  on  each  side  between  the  frog  and  the  crust,  from 
the  point  of  the  frog  back  to  the  heels,  should  be  filled  with  oakum 
dipped  in  tar,  and  pressed  down  until  the  mass  rises  somewhat  above 
the  level  of  the  frog  on  each  side,  and  gives  it  the  appearance  of 
being  sunk  in  a  hollow.  A  small  portion  of  oakum  may  be  spread 
over  the  sole  in  front  of  the  frog,  but  none  must  be  put  on  the  frog 
itself  excepting  the  bit  in  the  cleft,  which  is  necessary  to  prevent 
dirt  Avorking  in  from  behind.  The  best  way  of  dealing  with  this  bit 
is  to  pull  some  oakum  out  straight,  twist  it  once  or  twice,  fold  it 
in  the  centre,  then  dip  it  in  tar  and  press  it  into  the  cleft,  and 
carry  the  straggling  ends  across  the  frog,  to  mix  with  the  mass  on 
the  side  of  it.  Oakum  is  a  much  better  material  for  stopping  the  feet 
than  tow. 

The  usual  mode  of  stopping  the  feet  is  to  take  a  large  wad  of  tow 
and  spread  it  over  the  whole  of  the  sole  and  frog  in  one  mass, 
which  is  most  objectionable,  inasmuch  as  it  causes  a  constant  pressure 
on  the  frog,  which  is  just  what  the  stopping,  to  be  at  all  useful, 


23 


vs? 


Fis.  10. 


should  prevent.     Fig.  10  shows  the  stopping,  properly  placed  in  the 
foot,  and  Fig.  1 1  shows  the  aj)-  ^^y 


pearance  the  same  foot  would 
present  Avhen  properly  shod 
with  leather.  Just  as  I  had 
proceeded  thus  far  with  my 
suhject,  I  received  a  letter 
from  a  gentleman  in  the  north 
of  Devon,  containing  the  fol- 
lowing anecdote,  and  as  it 
bears  on  the  matter  I  have  in 
hand,  I  will  at  once  record  it. 
He  appears  to  be  a  zealous 
advocate  for  the  system  of 
shoeing  I  have  recommended, 
which  I  gather  from  his  let- 
ters, for  1  have  not  the  pleas- 
ure of  his  acquaintance.  He 
tells  me  that  a  short  time  ago 
he  sent  his  bailiff  to  a  sale 
some  ten  miles  off,  and  di- 
rected him  to  take  a  very  hot 
pony  he  possesses,  which  had 
never  been  previously  used 
excepting  in  the  plough  :  this 
pony  was  shod  with  only  four 
nails  in  each  fore  shoe,  and  he 
cast  one  of  them  by  the  way. 
The  bailitf  took  him  to  the 
nearest  forge,  and  told  the 
smith  to  put  on  another,  and 
at  the  same  time  called  his 
attention  to  the  way  in  which 
his  shoes  were  made  and  put 
on.  His  reply  was,  "  I  never 
saw  a  horse  shod  like  this ; 
it  will  never  do  for  this  coun- 
try ;  no  wonder  he  cast  his 
shoe  :  but  I'll  put  one  on  my 
way,  and  I  warrant  he  won't  throw  that 


Accordingly  the  shoe  was 
put  on,  nailed  inside  and  out  with  eight  nails,  and  two  or  three  days 
afterwards  the  pony  went  to  plough  agahi  in  some  stithsh  clay  for  an 
hour  or  two,  and  when  his  work  was  finished  it  was  found  that  he  had 
left  his  new  shoe  behind  him  somewhere  in  the  clay,  but  the  other 
shoe,  with  four  nails  in  it,  was  safe  on  his  foot. 

The  fact  is,  that  a  larger  number  than  five  nails  are  never  required 
excepting  for  the  purpose  of  counteracting  defective  fitting,  and  in 
this  case  the  fitting  Avas  clearly  so  bad  that  even  eight  nails  could  not 
hold  it,  although  placed  in  the  small  shoe  of  a  pony.  I  may  mention 
here  that  a  few  days  ago  my  groom  picked  up  a  shoe  in  the  road  with 
nine  nails  sticking  in  it,  and    I   was  struck  with  his  observation  on 


24 

finding  it.  He  said,  "  if  this  had  been  one  of  our  shoes,  sir,  with  only 
three  nails  in  it,  there  would  have  been  a  pretty  talk  about  it ;  but  as 
there  are  nine,  no  one  will  say  anything  about  it : "  and  I  have  no 
doubt  of  the  correctness  of  his  conclusion,  for  human  nature  is  ])rone 
to  be  very  tender  over  the  misfortunes  of  long-cherished  prejudices, 
but  merciless  in  its  visitations  on  the  failure  of  any  attempt  to  correct 
them. 

The  hind  foot  is  differently  formed  from  the  fore  foot,  and  requires 
to  be  differently  shod ;  nevertheless,  the  same  principle  of  fitting  the 
shoe  to  the  foot,  whatever  its  shape  may  be,  bringing  in  tlie  heels 
close  to  the  frog  and  placing  the  nail-holes  so  as  to  permit  the  inner 
quarter  and  heel  to  expand,  applies  with  equal  force  to  the  hind  as  it 
does  to  the  fore  shoes.  One  of  the  great  mistakes  smiths  fall  into  in 
shoeing  hind  feet  is  squaring  the  toe,  and  placing  a  clip  on  each  side 
of  it,  with  a  view,  as  they  say,  of  preventing  the  horse  striking  the 
toe  of  his  hind  shoe  against  the  heel  of  his  fore  shoe,  and  producing 
the  disagreeable  sound,  called  "  forging ;"  but  as  a  horse  never  does 
forge  with  his  toe,  the  plan  of  squaring  it  and  the  reason  assigned  for 
it  equally  fail  in  their  object,  and,  like  many  other  fallacies  connected 
with  the  art  of  horseshoeing,  produce  the  very  results  they  were 
intended  to  obviate. 

A  horse  forges  by  striking  the  outer  rim  of  each  side  of  the  hind 
shoe,  just  where  it  turns  backward,  against  the  inner  rim  of  the  fore 
shoe,  just  behind  the  quarters  ;  therefore  the  broader  the  toe  of  the 
hind  shoe  is  made  by  the  squaring  and  the  clips,  the  more  likely  the 
horse  is  to  strike  it  against  the  fore  shoe.  It  happens  in  this  way  : 
the  horse  fails  to  carry  his  fore  foot  forward  quickly  enough  to  get  it 
out  of  the  way  of  the  hind  foot,  and  the  toe  of  the  hind  shoe  is  thrust 
into  the  opening  of  the  still  held  up  fore  shoe,  and  the  outer  edge  of 
the  hind  shoe  strikes  against  the  inner  rim  of  the  fore  shoe  and  pro- 
duces the  sound.  I  have  entirely  cured  several  horses  of  forging  by 
merely  causing  the  corners  of  the  artificially-squared  toe  to  be  re- 
moved and  the  toe  restored  to  its  natural  form. 

The  best  mode  of  treating  the  toe  of  the  hind  shoe  of  all  horses  is 
to  make  it  I'ounding  and  rather  pointed,  and  to  turn  up  a  small  stout 
clip  in  the  centre  :  the  toe  should  be  tolerably  thick,  as  the  wear  is 
always  great  at  this  part  of  the  shoe,  and  the  back  edge  should  be 
rounded  with  a  file,  particularly  for  horses  at  all  likely  to  be  put  to 
fast  work  ;  it  prevents  the  chance  of  "  overreach,"  which,  like  forging, 
is  often  erroneously  attributed  to  the  front  of  the  toe,  but  is  invaria- 
bly caused  by  the  back  edge,  which,  in  a  half-worn-out  shoe  becomes 
as  sharp  as  a  razor.  The  accident  is  very  properly  named,  for  the 
horse  really  overreaches  the  fore  foot  with  the  hind  foot,  and  the  back 
edge  of  the  toe  of  the  hind  shoe  in  its  return  passage  to  the  ground 
strikes  the  soft  part  of  the  heel  of  the  fore  foot,  and  often  produces  a 
wound  that  is  very  troublesome  and  difficult  to  heal. 

Tiie  only  other  portions  of  the  hind  shoe  which  require  special 
attention  are  the  heels,  and  in  dealing  with  them  we  must  dejjart 
widely  from  the  principle  I  have  hitherto  advocated  of  following  na- 
ture as  closely  as  possible.  We  are  compelled  to  have  recourse  to 
art,  not,  however  with  a  view  of  assisting,  much  less  with  a  view  of 


25 

improving,  nature's  contrivances,  but  for  the  sole  purpose  of  counter- 
acting what,  it  must  be  confessed,  is  to  a  large  extent  a  necessary 
interference  on  the  part  of  man.  Nature  made  horses  with  fiat  heels, 
but  she  put  no  sharp  bits  in  their  mouths  ;  she  left  them  free  to  choose 
their  own  time  for  stopping  and  their  own  mode  of  doing  it ;  but  as 
soon  as  they  are  subjected  to  the  control  of  man,  his  heavy  hand  and 
sharp  bit  pull  them  up  without  warning,  and  without  the  smallest 
reference  to  the  position  they  may  chance  to  be  in  at  the  time,  or 
indeed  without  reference  to  anything  but  his  own  sudden  impulse. 
We  must  therefore  do  all  we  can  to  guard  the  poor  horse  against  the 
numberless  strains  und  injuries  incident  to  his  changed  condition,  and 
the  best  mode  of  effecting  it  is  to  raise  the  heels  of  the  shoe,  and  keep 
the  natural  heels  as  far  from  the  ground  as  is  practicable  without 
throwing  the  foot  too  much  on  the  toe. 

The  plan  I  have  adopted  for  many  years  past  is  to  have  the  heels 
forged  longer  and  deeper  than  is  commonly  done,  and  when  the  rag- 
ged ends  have  been  cut  off,  the  heels  are  made  red  hot,  and  the  shoe 
placed  in  the  vise  with  the  heels  upwards  and  projecting  ;  the  smith 
then  hammers  them  down,  to  shorten  and  condense  them,  until  the 
mass  is  reduced  to  about  an  inch  and  a  half  in  length ;  he  then  re- 
moves the  shoe  from  the  vise  and  makes  the  top,  bottom,  and  sides  of 
the  heels  flat  on  the  anvil,  preparatory  to  fitting  the  shoe  to  the  foot, 
taking  care  that  both  heels  are  of  an  equal  height.  This  plan  affords 
a  larger  and  more  even  surface  of  support  than  mere  calkins  would 
do,  and  is  better  for  fast  work  ;  but  calkins  are  very  useful  for  heavy 
draught,  provided  they  are  made  of  an  equal  length  at  each  heel. 
Nothing  is  more  distressing  to  a  horse  than  working  in  shoes  that 
bear  unevenly  on  the  ground,  twisting  and  straining  his  joints  at  every 
step  he  takes. 

Some  horses  have  a  habit  of  striking  the  foot  or  shoe  of  one  side 
against  the  fetlock  joint  of  the  other  side  either  with  their  fore  or 
hind  feet,  and  various  devices  have  been  at  different  times  suggested 
as  a  remedy  for  the  evil ;  but  as  each  horse  has  his  own  mode  of 
doing  it,  much  difficulty  is  often  experienced  in  hitting  upon  the  right 
one.  I  have  frequently  solved  the  difficulty  by  placing  a  boot,  or 
piece  of  cloth  covered  with  damp  pipe-clay,  over  the  injured  part,  and 
then  causing  the  horse  to  be  trotted  along  the  road,  and  he  generally 
returns  with  some  of  the  pipe-clay  adhering  to  the  offending  portion 
of  the  opposite  foot  or  shoe,  as  the  case  may  be,  pointing  out  pretty 
clearly  the  part  to  be  lessened  or  removed.  The  adoption  of  this 
simple  plan  has  saved  many  a  horse  from  months  of  torture  arising 
from  ill-contrived  shoes  and  misapplied  remedies. 

As  a  general  I'ule,  horses'  shoes  should  be  removed  once  between 
each  fresh  shoeing ;  but  this,  like  all  general  rules,  admits  of  excep- 
tions, for  if  a  horse  wears  out  his  shoes  in  less  time  than  a  month, 
they  had  better  not  be  removed,  or  if  he  has  a  weak,  brittle  hoof,  and 
does  not  carry  his  shoes  longer  than  five  or  six  weeks,  they  had  bet- 
ter remain  untouched,  as  such  feet  grow  horn  very  slowly,  and  are 
rather  injured  than  benefited  by  frequent  removal  of  the  shoes  ;  but 
a  horse  with  strong  feet,  who  carries  his  shoes  over  a  month,  should 


26     ' 

have  them  removed  and  refitted  at  the  end  of  a  fortnight  oi"  three 
weeks,  dependent  on  the  time  his  shoes  are  likely  to  last. 

The  treatment,  or  I  might  almost  call  it  the  ill-treatment,  that 
horses'  feet  receive  in  the  stable  requires  a  good  deal  of  revision,  and 
might  very  well  commence  with  the  all  but  universal  custom  of  wash- 
ing the  feet  and  legs  with  cold  water  the  moment  the  horses  return 
to  the  stable  from  their  work,  when  they  are  often  heated,  tired,  and 
exhausted.  Nothing  can  be  more  injudicious  than  subjecting  them  to 
the  sudden  chill,  caused  by  a  liberal  application  of  cold  water  to  their 
legs  and  feet  at  such  a  time,  and  then  leaving  them  to  dry  as  best  they 
can.  The  amount  of  cold  produced  during  the  process  of  evapora- 
tion is  so  great,  that  the  poor  beasts  remain  in  a  state  of  chilled 
wretchedness  for  many  hours  before  they  become  thoroughly  warm 
again.  If  their  legs  and  feet  must  be  washed  as  soon  as  they  return 
from  their  work,  let  it  be  done  with  Avater  that  is  quite  hot,  and  let 
them  be  rubbed  dry  immediately  ;  they  will  then  feel  warm  and  com- 
fortable, instead  of  being  cold  and  miserable  ;  but  as  many  stables  are 
not  provided  with  hot  water  at  command,  the  best  plan  is  not  to  wash 
them  at  all  when  they  first  come  in,  but  merely  to  pick  out  the  feet, 
clean  oif  the  dirt,  and  leave  them  for  several  hours,  until  the  circula- 
tion has  recovered  itself  and  subsided  into  a  natural  state,  or  even 
until  the  following  morning,  when  they  may  be  safely  washed  with 
cold  water,  and  the  delay  will  do  no  harm. 

Horses'  feet  are  generally  kept  too  dry  in  the  stable ;  they  all  re- 
quire moisture,  and  the  best  way  of  applying  it  is  to  surround  the 
hoof  by  a  wet  swab,  and  keep  it  on  for  a  few  hours  during  the  early 
part  of  the  day,  before  the  horse  has  been  to  work,  but  it  must  never 
be  put  on  after  his  return  from  work.  The  feet  should  be  stopped  at 
night,  and  the  best  thing  to  do  it  with  is  fresh  cow-dung,  without  any 
admixture  of  clay ;  when  clay  is  added,  the  heat  of  the  foot  dries  it, 
and  the  stopping  becomes  hard  and  does  the  foot  more  harm  than 
good.  Many  persons,  to  save  themselves  a  little  trouble,  substitute 
horse-dung  for  cow-dung ;  but  they  will  do  well  to  forego  the  whole 
of  the  trouble,  and  not  stop  the  loot  at  all,  rather  than  use  horse- 
dung  for  the  purpose. 

It  is  a  very  good  plan  to  smear  the  hoofs,  sole,  and  frog  all  over 
with  some  emolieht  dressing  every  morning,  as  soon  as  the  horse  has 
been  cleaned  and  got  ready  for  the  day ;  it  need  not  interfere  with 
the  use  of  the  wet  swabs,  which  may  with  advantage  be  placed  over 
it.  I  have  used  the  following  "preparation  for  many  years  in  my 
stable,  and  have  found  it  to  be  very  efficient  in  preserving  the  natural 
covering  of  the  hoof  in  a  good  healthy  state,  and,  as  a  necessary  con- 
sequence, the  horn  beneath  it  elastic  and  tough  : — To  a  pound  and  a 
half  of  lard  add  a  quarter  of  a  pound  of  beeswax,  a  quarter  of  a 
pound  of  common  tar,  and  a  quarter  of  a  pound  of  honey ;  melt  the 
lard  and  beeswax  together,  and  then  stir  in  the  tar  and  honey :  they 
require  to  be  stirred  for  some  little  time,  until  the  mass  begins  to  set. 
I  am  informed  that  the  addition  of  two  or  three  ounces  of  glycei'ine 
Avill  prevent  the  mass  becoming  too  hard,  and  I  have  no  doubt,  from 
the  peculiar  oily  properties  of  glycerine  and  the  numerous  pur- 
poses for  which  I  find  it  is  used  in  surgery,  that  it  would  prove  a  val- 


27 

uable  addition  to  the  hoof-dressing.  Whut  is  required  is  some  cover- 
ing that  shall  prevent  the  escape  of  the  natural  moisture  of  the  hoof, 
and  at  the  same  time  be  emolient,  adhesive,  not  too  fluid,  and  free 
from  any  irritant. 

Various  causes  have  combined  during  the  last  few  years  to  enhance 
the  value  of  horses  of  every  description,  and  it  has  become  incumbent 
on  every  one,  whose  attention  may  have  been  particularly  called  to 
the  subject,  to  communicate  any  information  his  experience  and  care- 
ful observation  has  supplied  him  with,  and  which  he  believes  may  be 
of  use  to  his  neighbors,  by  arousing  them  from  the  state  of  apathy 
into  which  many  of  them  have  permitted  themselves  to  fall  concern- 
ing a  matter  of  so  much  importance  to  them  commercially  and  per- 
sonally as  the  soundness  of  their  horses'  feet. 

Dixfield,  December,  1857. 


r     NO.  3.      n 
Lnew  series.J 


PRIZE    ESSAY 


FAIRS. 


BY 

ALLEN    W.    DODGE, 

OF  HAMILTON,  MASS. 


BOSTON : 

1858. 

J.   H.   EASTBURN'S    PRESS. 


ESSAY. 


In  offering  its  prize  for  the  best  essay  on  the  advantages  to  be 
derived  from  establishing  regular  fairs  or  market-days  throughout  the 
State,  for  the  sale  and  exchange  of  agricultural  products,  it  is  pre- 
sumed that  the  Society  did  not  mean  to  consider  the  question  as  set- 
tled in  favor  of  such  fail's  ;  but  wished  rather  to  elicit  inquiry  into 
their  merits  as  compared  with  the  prevailing  modes  of  disposing  of 
the  products  of  the  farm  ;  and  if,  upon  a  careful  and  candid  consid- 
eration of  the  question,  it  should  be  found  that  thei'e  were  sufficient 
and  weighty  reasons  for  the  establishing  of  such  fairs,  that  then  some 
practical  plan  should  be  proposed  for  this  purpose. 

These  fairs  or  market-days,  which  in  fact  are  nothing  more  than  a 
periodical  concourse  of  people  at  a  stated  place  for  selling  and  buying 
agricultural  commodities  and  for  hiring  laborers,  have  long  been  in 
successful  operation  in  Great  Britain.  To  the  farmers  there  they 
are  of  great  importance,  constituting  their  chief,  or  perhaps  their 
only,  opportunities  of  effecting  profitable  sales  or  purchases  of  stock. 
The  different  breeds  of  neat-stock,  of  horses,  of  sheep  and  of  swine, 
are  exposed  to  sale,  often  in  large  numbers  and  of  great  excellence, 
at  the  local  fairs  in  the  quarter  where  they  are  raised  ;  and  they 
attract  to  them  dealers  from  a  distance,  with  the  certainty  that  they 
can  find  just  the  description  of  animals  they  are  in  want  of.  This, 
with  the  local  attendance,  usually  ensures  a  brisk  business.  And  so 
great  is  the  convenience  of  a  market-day  considered  to  be  to  the 
neighborhood  in  which  it  is  held,  that  new  fairs  are  constantly  spring- 
ing up,  the  only  limitation  to  their  number  being  the  amount  of  busi- 
ness which  may  be  controlled  by  them. 

Besides  live-stock,  fruit,  vegetables  and  grains  find  purchasers  at 
these  fail's,  and  they  are  offered  for  sale  either  in  bulk  or  by  sample, 
the  latter  being  the  more  usual  way  of  disposing  of  large  quantities  of 
any  commodity.  Most  of  these  fairs,  too,  have  a  well-known  and 
specific  character,  and  are  noted,  some  for  the  superior  quality  of  one 
kind  of  stock  or  of  produce,  and  others  for  that  of  another  kind.  And 
they  often  receive  their  name  from  the  predominant  article  exposed 
to  sale,  as,  for  example,  a  fair  at  which  large  quantities  of  cherries 
are  presented,  is  called  the  Cherry  Fair,  and  one  of  which  sheep  is 
the  characteristic  feature  is  called  a  Sheep  Fair. 

But  in  this  country,  or  at  least  in  New  England,  we  have  nothing 
answering  to  these  fairs  or  market-days.  The  nearest  approach  to 
them  are  the  cattle  markets  established  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of 
our  largest  cities,  and  mainly  for  the  supply  of  the  meat  for  their 
consumption,  as  those  held  weekly  at  Brighton  and  Cambridge,  in 
our  own  Commonwealth,  and  which  are  the  only  markets  of  any  ex- 
tent for  the  sale  of  live-stock,  within  her  borders.     These,  however, 


diiFer  in  some  important  particulars  from  tbe  fairs  proposed  for  con- 
sideration. They  ai'e  exclusively  for  the  sale  and  purchase  of  live- 
stock, and  that  stock  is  mostly  brought  from  a  distance,  sometimes 
even  from  the  far  West.  They  afford  a  good  opportunity  for  farmers 
in  the  surrounding  country  to  purchase  such  animals  as  they  stand  in 
need  of,  and  they  are  resorted  to  very  generally  by  them  for  this 
object.  But  they  are  not  intended  to  encourage  the  sale  of  stock 
by  these  farmers,  for  the  very  obvious  reason  that  but  little  or  no 
stock  is  raised  by  them.  They  are  also  very  inconveniently  located, 
being  at  one  extremity  of  the  State,  and  therefore  can  be  attended 
by  the  larger  part  of  the  farming  population  only  at  great  expense. 

What,  then,  would  be  some  of  the  benefits  of  regular  fairs  or  market- 
days,  established  throughout  the  State,  for  the  sale  and  exchange  of 
agricultural  products — benefits  that  might  reasonably  be  expected 
from  them  ?  In  the  first  place,  they  would  offer  to  every  enterpris- 
ing farmer  in  their  neighborhood  a  home  market,  or  a  market  near 
at  hand  and  easy  of  access.  Studded  all  over  as  Massachusetts  is — 
especially  on  her  eastern  borders — with  cities  and  large  towns  and 
manufacturing  villages,  it  might  be  thought  that  the  farmers  are 
amply  supplied  with  good  markets  and  at  their  very  doors.  To 
some  extent  this  is  indeed  true,  but  it  is  equally  true  that  very 
many  farmers — a  majority  perhaps — are  obliged  to  travel  eight  or 
twelve  miles  and  sometimes  more,  in  order  to  reach  their  nearest 
market  town.  The  loss  of  time  in  thus  travelling  to  and  from  market, 
and  the  wear  and  tear  of  horse  and  vehicle,  are  no  inconsiderable 
items  of  expense  to  the  farmer  who  is  placed  in  this  unfavorable 
position  in  regard  to  markets.  Suppose  that  he  follows  the  market 
weekly  for  two  thirds  of  the  year,  there  are  then  thirty-five  days  to 
be  deducted  from  the  working-days  of  the  year,  and  if  in  the  fall  he 
goes  to  market  two  or  more  times  in  a  week,  the  number  would  be 
increased  fully  to  fifty  days,  including  the  occasional  days  in  winter 
devoted  to  this  object. 

But  the  establishing  of  regular  market-days  in  towns  near  to  these 
farmers,  would  prevent  very  materially  this  heavy  loss  of  time  and 
the  expense,  to  which  they  are  now  subjected.  If  there  were  twelve 
such  market-days  in  a  year,  that  is,  monthly  markets,  where  they 
would  be  sure  of  finding  purchasers,  they  would  save  the  difference 
between  twelve  and  fifty  days  of  time,  which  they  then  would  have  to 
spend  on  the  farm  in  increasing  its  productions,  besides  making  a 
corresponding  saving  in  the  service  of  horse  and  wagon.  This  sav- 
ing to  the  farmer  may  perhaps  be  more  sensibly  measured  and  appre- 
ciated, by  considering  what  has  been  so  justly  stated  by  Henry  C. 
Carey,  in  the  Plough,  Loom  and  Anvil,  for  September,  1851,  in 
respect  of  labor. 

"  The  first  of  all  the  taxes  to  be  paid  by  labor  is  that  of  transporta- 
tion. It  takes  precedence  even  of  the  claims  of  government,  for  the 
man  who  has  labor  to  sell  or  exchange  must  take  it  to  the  place  at 
which  it  can  be  sold.  If  the  market  be  so  far  distant  that  it  will 
occupy  so  large  a  portion  of  his  time  in  going  to  and  returning  from 
his  work,  as  to  leave  him  insulficient  to  purchase  food  enough  to  pre- 
serve life,  he  will  perish  of  starvation.     If  it  be  somewhat  less  distant, 


he  may  obtain  a  small  amount  of  food.  If  brought  near,  he  may  be 
well  fed.  Still  nearer,  he  may  be  well  fed  and  poorly  clothed. 
Broug^ht  to  his  door,  so  as  to  make  a  market  for  all  his  time,  he  will 
be  well  fed,  well  clothed,  well  housed,  and  he  will  be  able  to  feed, 
clothe,  lodge,  and  educate  his  children." 

What  is  here  said  of  labor  applies  with  equal  force  to  the  products 
of  labor,  the  nearer  the  market  the  more  perfect  is  the  power  to  ex- 
change them  and  the  higher  is  their  price.  Trite  as  is  Franklin's 
provei-b,  it  is  not  the  less  true,  that  ''  time  is  money."  And  yet  our 
New  England  farmers,  trained  as  they  are  to  habits  of  thrift  and 
economy  in  other  particulars,  and  certainly  not  wanting  in  any  of  the 
essential  qualifications  for  trade,  seem,  too  many  of  them,  in  this  im- 
portant matter  of  marketing  their  produce,  to  set  scarcely  any  value 
at  all  upon  time.  But  if  their  time  be  worth  to  them  any  thing  at  all, 
if  it  will  yield  any  return  when  skilfully  employed,  it  surely  ought 
not  to  be  thus  misspent,  not  to  say  squandered  in  a  reckless  and 
shameful  manner. 

In  the  second  place,  mai-ket-days,  by  bringing  the  purchaser  to  the 
producer,  or  rather  by  creating  a  half-way  place  and  common  ground 
of  meeting  for  busine?s,  instead  of  the  producer  being  obliged,  as  is 
now  most  frequently  the  case,  to  go  to  the  pui'chaser  with  his  com- 
modities, would  tend  to  make  better  prices  and  quicker  and  more  cer- 
tain sales  for  them.  As  at  present  managed,  the  farmer  takes  or 
sends  to  his  nearest  market  town  such  things  as  he  has  to  dispose  of, 
and  unless  he  has  a  regular  set  of  customers,  he  may  be  put  to  much 
trouble  and  inconvenience  to  find  a  purchaser,  and  must  then  often 
sell  to  a  disadvantage.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  collected  a 
large  number  of  buyers  at  a  stated  time  and  place,  and  there  are 
assembled  such  products  of  the  farm  as  all  are  desirous  of  purchasing, 
it  is  clear  that  there  will  be  more  or  less  competition,  and  that  sales 
will  be  readily  effected  at  remunerating  prices. 

The  tendency  of  trade  in  this  country  is  to  centralization.  The 
large  manufacturers  of  cotton  and  Avoolen  goods  and  of  boots  and 
shoes,  instead  of  selling  at  their  factories,  have  their  places  for  making 
sales  in  the  metropolis.  And  where  the  manufjxcturer  and  the  sales- 
man ai-e  united  in  the  same  person,  it  makes  but  little  difference 
whether  the  factory  and  the  shop  are  in  one  and  the  same  place  or  at 
a  distance  from  each  other.  But  where  the  manufacturer  sells  his 
goods  to  the  merchant,  who  buys  to  sell  again, — as  is  the  case  with 
boots  and  shoes — then  it  makes  oftentimes  all  the  difference  to  the 
manufacturer,  of  a  living  profit  by  the  sale  of  his  goods,  or  no  profit 
at  all,  whether  the  purchaser  comes  to  the  manufacturer,  or  the 
manufacturer  goes  to  the  purchaser.  The  scripture  adage — "  It  is 
naught  says  the  buyer," — will  operate  in  the  former  case  with  unre- 
stricted vigor,  while  in  the  latter  it  will  fail  of  its  object  to  depreciate 
the  price  of  that  which  it  is  known  is  wanted  by  the  purchaser. 

In  the  third  place,  no  small  advantage  would  accrue  to  the  farmer 
by  the  establishing  of  regular  market-days,  from  their  tendency  to 
equalize  the  prices  of  agricultural  products.  At  present,  prices  are 
left  to  depend  too  much  upon  caprice  and  accident,  and  but  little 
difference  is  made  between  different  qualities  of  the  same  article. 


6 

An  inferior  article  often  brings  as  much  as,  or  more  than,  a  superior 
one ;  so  that  the  sale  of  agricultural  products  resembles  more  a  lot- 
tery than  a  fair  and  equable  traffic.  <'  What  luck  to  day  ?"  is  the 
usual  interrogatory  put  to  the  farmer  on  his  return  from  market, 
meaning  thereby  not  whether  a  sale  was  effected  of  his  produce,  but 
at  what  rates.  And  as  a  consequence  of  this  uncertainty  in  prices, 
there  is  but  little  inducement  to  prepare  for  the  market  any  com- 
modity— such  as  butter  or  cheese — of  a  superior  quality,  when  it  is 
well  understood  that  as  a  matter  of  dollars  and  cents,  an  inferior  one, 
requiring  less  time  and  labor  in  its  production,  will  pay  much  better. 
The  advantage  of  an  open  market  where  products  of  a  similar  kind 
are  exposed  to  sale  side  by  side,  is  that  a  standard  of  prices  is  readily 
fixed,  each  takes  its  place  according  to  its  merit  and  commands  the 
price  to  which  it  is  fairly  entitled.  And  this  advantage  enures  to  the 
buyer  as  well  as  the  seller,  and  gives  character  and  stimulus  to  the 
market. 

In  the  fourth  place,  in  connection  with  this  benefit  and  closely  allied 
to  it,  is  the  healthy  emulation  which  is  excited  by  bringing  different 
specimens  of  the  same  products  into  comparison  with  one  another. 
Competition  of  the  right  kind  at  once  springs  up — a  competition  to 
excel  in  the  quality  of  the  article  pi-oduced  and  not  merely  in  the 
price  obtained  for  it.  The  man  who  has  been  contented  to  produce 
an  ordinary  article,  because  he  has  generally  obtained  a  good  price 
for  it,  or  because  he  has  never  seen  any  thing  superior  to  it,  is  stimu- 
lated by  the  success  of  his  neighbor,  both  as  to  the  quality  and  price 
of  his  products,  to  produce  a  better ;  whilst  the  other  to  maintain  his 
advantage  and  to  avoid  the  mortification  of  being  surpassed  by  his 
competitor,  increases  his  skill  and  pains-taking.  It  is  thus  that  pro- 
gress in  all  the  arts  is  effected,  aud  it  is  only  thus  that  progress  in  the 
important  art  of  agriculture  is  to  be  achieved. 

Besides  this  beneficial  result,  these  fairs  would  tend  to  diffuse  infor- 
mation, just  as  our  cattle  shows  do,  by  promoting  intercourse  be- 
tween men  engaged  in  a  common  pursuit,  and  bringing  their  minds 
into  contact  on  subjects  connected  with  it.  Enquiry  into  the  differ- 
ent processes  by  which  results  are  obtained  in  the  various  branches 
of  husbandry  is  thus  excited,  and  the  why  and  the  wherefore  of  each 
are  freely  discussed.  It  cannot  be  otherwise  than  that  the  farmer 
must  retui-n  from  these  fairs  a  wiser  man,  or  if  he  thought  that  all 
wisdom  would  die  with  him,  that  this  conceit  must  be  rubbed  out  of 
him  by  the  friction  to  which  he  has  there  been  subjected.  It  often 
happens,  for  want  of  this  intercourse  among  farmers,  this  interchange 
of  opinions  and  mutual  comparison  of  skill  and  intelligence,  that  indi- 
viduals exhibit  an  overweening  pride  in  respect  of  certain  processes 
or  products,  which  is  not  warranted  by  facts  and  is  simply  ridiculous. 
One  of  these  self-sufficient  farmers,  who  had  always  in  his  own  estima- 
tion the  best  of  every  thing,  was  heard  to  utter  the  boast,  when 
speaking  of  the  prospects  for  a  hay  crop,  "  that  he  should  have  had 
the  best  in  the  county,  if  his  hay-seed  had  only  caught !" 

There  is  no  denying  that  as  a  class  our  fanners  are  set  in  their 
opinions,  whether  well  or  ill  founded,  and  this  arises  as  much  from 
their  living  comparatively  by  themselves,  as  from  that  independence 


of  character,  which  springs  from  their  occupation.  The  commercial 
intercourse  of  these  fairs  would  supply  just  what  is  wanting  to  many 
of  our  farmers,  it  would  liberalize  their  views  and  enlarge  the  sphere 
of  their  obsei'vation,  and  as  a  necessary  consequence  agricultural 
knowledge  Avould  be  advanced.  Indeed  these  fairs  would  become  a 
school  for  the  young  farmer,  and  for  all  farmers  who  were  not  too  old 
to  learn.  The  various  breeds  of  stock  could  here  be  learned,  their 
points  noted,  their  peculiar  marks  of  excellence  ascertained  and  a  vast 
amount  of  experience  and  information  in  regard  to  them  gained. 
Trained  in  such  a  school,  our  farmers  would  become  much  better 
judges  than  they  now  are,  of  farm  stock.  And  will  any  one  pretend 
that  it  is  not  vital  to  the  interests  of  the  farmer  to  be  able  to  judge  of 
a  good  cow  or  of  a  good  pair  of  working  cattle,  so  as  to  be  seldom 
disappointed  in  making  his  purchases  ?  Should  he  not  here  as  in 
other  transactions  be  able  to  think  for  himself,  and  if  need  be  to  give 
a  reason  for  his  opinion  ?  Will  he  not  at  least  have  more  self-respect 
and  command  better  the  respect  of  others,  than  by  a  blind  and  hap- 
hazard way  of  doing  his  business  ? 

The  farmer  needs  to  be  well  versed  in  the  knowledge  of  buying 
and  selling,  and  this  knowledge  can  be  acquired  only  by  observa- 
tion and  the  exercise  of  his  own  faculties.  Many  farmers  fail  here — 
they  raise  good  crops  and  they  harvest  them  in  good  order — -but  when 
they  come  to  dispose  of  them  they  are  at  fault ;  they  are  either  too 
early  or  too  late  in  making  sales,  and  have  usually  the  worst  end  of 
the  bargain.  Now  why  is  this  ?  Mainly  for  want  of  practical  ex- 
perience in  trade.  The  narrow  round  of  their  customers  gives  no 
opportunity  for  them  to  learn,  and  they  go  through  life  with  but  little 
skill  in  this  the  financial  department  of  husbandry.  The  establishing 
of  market-days,  by  collecting  large  numbers  of  buyers  at  one  place, 
and  by  the  competion  excited  thereby,  would  give  to  the  farmer 
more  tact  in  trading  than  it  is  possible  for  him  now  to  acquire. 

In  the  last  place,  these  market-days  or  fairs  would  tend  to  concen- 
trate New  England  farming  upon  fewer  products,  by  making  near 
and  certain  markets  for  them.  As  it  is  now,  our  farm  products  ai*e 
too  varied — we  raise  a  little  of  every  thing,  and  not  enough  of  any 
one  thing  to  make  it  profitable,  from  the  expense  of  disposing  of 
them.  Of  many  articles  raised  on  the  farm,  the  little  surplus  over 
what  is  wanted  for  home  consumption  is  taken  to  market.  As  a  con- 
sequence, sales  are  uncertain  and  the  proceeds  come  in  by  driblets. 
And  there  is  at  present  little  inducement  to  go  largely  into  any  one 
production.  But  create  a  fixed  market  near  at  hand,  and  our  farm- 
ing would  at  once  shape  itself  accordingly.  One  farmer  would  take 
to  neat  stock,  another  to  sheep  and  another  to  pigs,  and  they  would 
all  aim  to  have  the  best  breeds,  and  the  best  animals  to  take  to  the 
market.  Quick  sales,  too,  would  be  had  for  them,  if  it  was  known,  as 
it  would  be,  when  and  where  they  were  to  be  offered  for  sale.  At  the 
same  market  the  farmer  could  buy  what  he  is  now  forced  to  raise  or 
to  purchase  at  great  disadvantage.  The  farmer  who  went  into  stock 
raising,  would  not  be  likely  to  raise  all  other  farm  products,  as  he 
could  find  them  at  hand,  on  market-day,  much  cheaper.  There  would 
thus  be  a  division  of  agricultural  labor  that  would  be  for  the  common 


8 

good.  Few  farmers  in  this  State  think  of"  raising  their  own  wheat, 
as  they  can  buy  flour  much  cheaper ;  and  so  it  will  be  of  many  other 
farm  products,  when  these  markets  are  once  established. 

We  have  dwelt  thus  at  length  on  the  general  advantages  of  regular 
fairs  or  market  days,  if  established  throughout  the  State  ;  let  us  now 
consider  some  of  the  particular  benefits  to  be  derived  from  them. 
Every  farmer  wishes,  more  or  less  times  in  the  year,  to  purchase  live- 
stock, either  young  animals  to  keep  over  winter,  stores  to  fat,  milch 
cows  to  recruit  his  dairy,  or  working  oxen,  or  a  bull,  or  a  horse,  or 
swine,  sheep  or  poultry.  Some  of  these  are  sure  to  be  needed  by 
him,  and  he  must  either  ride  round  among  the  surrounding  farmers, 
or  he  must  go  to  Brighton  or  Cambridge,  to  make  his  purchases. 
The  former  course  is  attended  with  much  loss  of  time  and  vast  un- 
certainty of  finding  the  precise  animals  wanted.  The  latter  involves 
much  expense,  and  the  inconvenience  of  making  the  desired  purchase 
at  a  distance  from  home,  which  distance  must  be  travelled  by  the 
animals  as  well  as  himself,  to  reach  home. 

Now,  if  there  were  a  cattle  fair  held  monthly  or  quarter-yearly  in 
his  neighborhood,  he  might  at  a  trifling  expense  I'esort  to  it  with  the 
certainty  or  high  probability  of  making  his  purchases,  and  he  can 
return  with  them  the  same  day  to  his  farm.  Or  suppose  that  he  has 
an  ox  which  he  wishes  to  mate,  he  can  drive  him  to  the  fair  and  he 
may  there  meet  with  another  fai'mer  similarly  situated,  and  thus  the 
two  are  brought  into  a  position  to  make  some  sort  of  a  trade,  which 
may  be  mutually  advantageous.  Now  these  men  might  have  ridden 
about  a  week  or  more  exploring  barnyards  and  fields  for  an  odd  ox — 
and  what  farmer's  experience  does  not  illustrate  the  supposed  case  ? 
— and  perhaps  be  unsuccessful  at  last. 

Again,  many  farmers  wish  to  purchase  in  the  fall  young  stock  to 
keep  over  winter,  generally  heifers  expected  to  calve  in  the  spring. 
Heretofore,  when  cattle  travelled  on  foot  in  droves  to  the  Brighton 
market,  they  came  so  near  their  doors  as  to  present  a  good  opportu- 
nity for  such  farmers  to  make  their  purchases.  But  now  live-stock  is 
mostly  transported  to  the  large  markets  by  the  rail  cars,  and  there  is 
hardly  any  alternative  for  the  farmer  to  make  his  purchases,  but  at 
these  distant  markets.  Were  local  lairs  or  market-days  established, 
then  there  would  doubtless  be  droves  of  cattle  purchased  at  the  large 
markets  at  Cambridge  and  Brighton,  and  di'iven  down  to  such  fairs  to 
supply  the  demand  there.  The  farmer  could  then  have  his  choice  of 
such  stock  and  at  a  price  that  while  it  would  leave  a  fair  profit  to  the 
drovers,  Avould  be  less  than  he  could  afford  to  pay  at  a  distant  mai'ket. 
This  would  occur  only  in  districts  where  there  were  not  young  ani- 
mals enough  raised,  to  supply  the  local  demand. 

It  may  be,  too,  that  among  the  benefits  to  be  derived  from  estab- 
lishing regular  fairs  throughout  the  State,  would  be  the  encourage- 
ment they  would  thus  indirectly  give  to  stock  husbandry,  a  branch  of 
husbandry  of  late  sadly  neglected  by  us.  The  farmer  is  now  tempted 
by  the  high  prices  ofl'ered,  to  sell  his  best  calves  at  an  early  age  to  the 
butcher.  And  in  fact  their  slaughtered  carcases  are  brought  by  the 
cars  and  by  steamboats  from  New  Hampshire,  Vermont  and  Maine, 
to  supply  the  Boston  markeL     Thus  the  number  of  neat  animals 


raised  to  maturity,  has  not  kept  up  with  tlie  wants  of  the  community, 
and  as  a  consequence  the  |)rice  of  beef  animals,  milch  cows  and  work- 
ing cattle,  has  experienced  a  most  un])recedeiited  increase.  If  the 
farmer  could  find  ])Uicha8ers  for  two-year-old  heifers  and  steers,  as 
readily  as  for  calves  and  at  corresponding  prices,  what  should  hinder 
his  making  the  attempt  to  rear  them?  It  will  be  said  perhaps  that 
he  has  not  the  fodder  to^keep  them  over  winter  in  any  lujmbers,  with- 
out encroaching  on  the  feed  of  his  other  stock.  JS'ow  here  is  just 
where  he  should  rouse  himself  to  more  enterprise  to  meet  this  want, 
especially  by  the  cultivation  of  root  crops.  It  is  remarkable  what 
immense  burdens  of  carrots,  ruta-bagas,  mangel  wurzels  and  sugar 
beets,  can  be  raised  on  small  plots  of  well  manured  land,  and  with  no 
more  skill  and  labor  than  are  required  in  the  cultivation  of  a  corn 
crop.  The  turnip-culture  is  often  said  to  be  the  foundation  of  mod- 
ern British  husbandry.  Why  ?  Because  it  enables  the  farmers  of 
Great  Britain  to  raise  and  keep  a  much  larger  number  of  animals — 
both  neat  stock  and  sheep — than  they  would  otherwise  possibly  be 
enabled  to  do,  and  by  this  means  to  increase  the  manure  heaps  by 
which  {o  augment  the  capacity  of  the  soil  for  future  crops.  We  have 
talked  a  great  d.\al  about  the  benefits  of  the  root  culture — it  forms 
one  of  the  standing  topics  of  cattle  show  addresses — but  it  has  made 
but  slow  progress  among  us.  If  we  would  once  set  about  it  in  good 
earnest  and  begin  to  rear  young  stock,  we  should  know  by  actual 
experience  the  inestimable  value  of  roots  for  winter  feeding,  and 
should  help  introduce  into  more  general  practice  their  culture.  And 
the  prospect  of  a  home  demand  for  young  stock — such  as  would 
spring  up  from  the  establishing  of  market-days — would  certainly  tend 
to  this  desired  result. 

Again,  there  is  a  growing  demand  and  at  high  prices,  for  good 
milch  cows,  especially  for  those  giving  rich  milk,  well  adapted  for  the 
table  and  for  butter.  Let  a  regular  market-day  be  established  in  their 
neighborhood,  and  an  additional  inducement  would  be  offered  to 
farmers  to  raise  their  most  promising  heifer  calves,  by  the  certainty 
of  finding  purchasers  of  their  cows,  just  as  soon  as  they  were  ready 
for  sale  ;  and  the  competition  of  a  full  attendance  of  purchasers  would 
most  likely  create  brisker  sales  and  higher  prices  than  would  other- 
wise be  had  for  them.  The  great  question  which  is  the  best  breed  of 
cows  for  dairy  purposes — if  indeed  there  be  one — would  after  a  time 
be  in  a  fair  way  to  be  settled.  If  the  Jersey  or  the  Ayrshire  breed  be 
the  best  adapted  to  our  pastures  and  our  climate,  and  the  most  to  be 
depended  upon  for  the  dairy,  it  would  assuredly  be  found  out;  for  at 
a  Fair  where  dealers  and  fai-mers  thus  meet  together,  they  would  com- 
pare their  experiences  and  make  up  a  judgment  accordingly.  Or  if 
a  new  breed  of  milch  cows — pure  natives  perchance — should  be  origi- 
nated among  us,  that  should  meet  all  our  requirements,  that  would 
then  be  the  one  to  receive  the  most  attention  to  propagate  it  in  its 
purity.  Why  ?  Because  quick  sales,  large  prices  and  a  certain 
market  at  our  veiy  doors,  would  operate  as  a  stimulus  to  such  stock 
raising,  and  it  would  be  seen  that  it  would  pay,  when  we  returned 
from  the  market  with  the  pi'oceeds. 
8-a 


10 

So  too  we  should  raise  our  pigs,  instead  of  being  dependent,  as  for 
years  we  have  been,  on  New  York  and  Ohio  for  our  supply,  notwith- 
standing the  disease  which  has  proved  of  late  so  fatal  to  those  brought 
from  these  States.  The  loss  from  this  source  to  the  farmers  and 
drovers  of  Massachusetts  has  been  immense.  Can  any  one  say,  in 
view  of  such  a  loss,  that  its  recurrence  should  not  be  guarded  against 
by  increasing  the  number  of  breeding  sows,  and  making  a  home  mar- 
ket for  their  litters  by  the  establishing  of  regular  markets  for  their 
sale  ?  They  can  readily  be  taken  to  market  in  wagons  fitted  for  the 
purpose,  or  they  could  be  driven  in  droves,  if  grown  to  be  shoats,  and 
the  supply,  it  is  safe  to  predict,  would  not  for  a  long  time,  if  ever, 
exceed  the  demand.  And  here  too,  as  in  the  case  with  milch  cows, 
there  would  be  greater  inducements,  by  the  establishing  of  such 
markets,  to  bestow  more  attention  to  breeding  than  has  as  yet  been 
practiced  among  us. 

Let  us  come  now  to  farm  products  other  than  live  stock, — how 
would  they  be  aftected  by  the  establishing  of  these  fairs  ?  Some  pro- 
ducts, such  as  hay  for  example,  would  hardly  be  offered  for  sale, 
unless  it  should  be  pressed  in  bundles  so  as  to  be  made  available  for 
transportation.  Wherever  grains  were  grown  in  any  considerable 
quantities,  they  would  rarely  fail  of  finding  purchasers  at  these  fairs, 
for  it  is  well  known  that  the  supply  of  these  have  not  for  a  long  time 
been  at  all  adequate  to  the  wants  of  the  State.  And  it  is  equally 
well  known  that  the  Indian  corn  and  the  rye  raised  in  New  England, 
is  far  superior  in  quality  to  that  imported  from  the  Middle  and  South- 
ern States — for  domestic  consumption,  indeed,  no  one  having  tasted 
of  the  former  would  use  the  latter,  unless  from  sheer  necessity.  But- 
ter, cheese  and  eggs,  articles  that  are  now  frequently  sold  at  the  door 
to  travelling  agents,  or  at  country  stores,  and  without  any  competition 
to  enhance  their  price,  would  be  brought  to  these  fairs  in  sufficient 
quantities  to  attract  purchasers  for  the  larger  markets,  and  sales 
would  be  made  at  their  full  value  and  for  ready  cash  payment. 

In  regard  to  apples,  large  quantities  of  which  are  some  yeai's 
raised  in  the  State,  the  advantage  of  regular  market  days  or  fairs  for 
their  sale,  would  be  very  great.  As  they  are  a  bulky  article,  their 
transportation  to  market  is  no  trifling  affair.  Six  or  eight  barrels  are 
usually  taken  at  a  load  in  a  one-horse  wagon,  requiring  on  an  average 
thirty  trips  to  sell  a  crop  of  two  hundred  barrels,  besides  the  time 
consumed  in  finding  purchasers.  Now  if  the  farmer  were  sure  that 
on  a  particular  day  in  the  fall,  dealers  would  attend  the  fair  in  his 
neighborhood,  and  make  large  purchases  of  this  fruit  for  shipping  or 
for  re-sale  at  the  larger  markets,  he  could  take  with  him  samples  of 
his  different  varieties,  and  thus  dispose  of  his  entire  crop,  to  be  deliv- 
ered at  the  cars  or  in  the  city,  as  might  be  agreed  upon.  By  this 
comparatively  small  outlay  of  time  and  money,  his  net  profit  would 
be  vastly  greater  than  it  now  is.  In  the  same  manner,  onions  and 
other  vegetable  crops  might  be  disposed  of  with  advantage,  both  to 
the  seller  and  the  buyer. 

And  here  we  are  reminded  of  an  incidental  advantage  to  be  derived 
from  these  fairs,  and  one  by  no  means  to  be  overlooked  in  foi'ming  a 


11 

correct  estimate  of  them.  Some  crops,  such  as  the  apple,  for  exam- 
ple, are  extremely  variable,  being  one  year  abundant  in  some  parts 
and  scarce  in  others ;  and  anoliier  year,  vice  versa.  Some  crops 
too,  such  as  the  onion,  are  raised  in  large  quantities,  in  some  sections 
of  the  State,  and  not  at  all  in  other  sections.  Now  an  abundant  sup- 
ply of  any  commodity  gluts  the  market,  and  often  reduces  prices  to 
a  ruinous  extent.  Hence,  where  there  is  an  excess  of  these  crops 
beyond  the  demand  for  home  consumption,  it  could  readily  be  disposed 
of  to  purchasers  from  a  distance,  who  would  be  drawn  to  the  local 
fairs  by  the  knowledge  of  this  very  contingency. 

Besides  the  opportunity  thus  aflfbrded  for  tratlic  at  these  fairs,  they 
would  be  attended  with  peculiar  convenience  to  the  farmer  in  hiring 
laborers.  He  is  now  put  to  great  trouble  and  uncertainty  in  obtain- 
ing such  as  are  needed — doubtless  owing  in  part  to  the  fact  that  na- 
tive labor  has  been  of  late  largely  superseded  by  foreign.  But  even 
this  labor  cannot  always  be  commanded  at  the  time  it  is  most  wanted 
by  him.  He  cannot  spend  much  time  in  the  busy  season  in  riding 
round  for  work-people,  and  unless  they  happen  to  offer  themselves  at 
his  door,  he  must  suffer  for  want  of  them.  Now  at  the  opening  of 
the  spring  work,  at  haying  and  at  harvesting,  if  the  farmer  could  be 
sure  of  meeting  at  the  fair  in  his  neighborhood,  a  large  number 
of  men  in  want  of  work,  of  whom  he  could  take  his  pick,  it  would 
assuredly  be  no  small  convenience  both  to  himself  and  to  the  persons 
hired.  From  this  arrangement,  a  scale  of  prices,  which  would  be 
highly  desirable,  would  soon  be  fixed  for  the  different  kinds  of  labor- 
ers, and  as  a  consequence  there  would  be  more  uniformity  of  wages 
paid  by  our  fixrmers.  And  if  it  were  deemed  expedient,  a  registry 
might  be  opened  for  the  names  of  the  persons  thus  seeking  employ- 
ment, and  of  the  place  where  they  last  worked. 

But  it  would  be  difficult  to  specify  in  detail,  all  the  benefits,  which 
might  be  expected  to  be  derived  from  establishing  regular  fairs  or 
market-days  throughout  the  State.  We  have  endeavored  to  enume- 
rate but  a  few  of  them — sufficient,  however,  to  give  some  definite, 
and  it  is  to  be  hoped,  favorable  views  in  regard  to  them.  Doubtless 
here,  as  in  other  new  enterprises,  many  of  the  advantages  would  far 
exceed  the  most  sanguine  expectations,  whilst  others  would  in  time 
spring  up  that  were  entii'ely  unlocked  foi\  Take  for  illustration,  our 
railroads — many  of  us  can  remember  with  what  distrust  they  were 
regarded  by  a  large  part  of  the  community,  when  they  were  first 
proposed  for  consideration.  The  stage-coach  companies  thought  that 
they  should  be  ruined — and  the  farmers  reasoned  very  naturally  that 
the  general  introduction  of  the  iron  horse,  as  a  means  of  transporta- 
tion, would  diminish  if  not  destroy  the  demand  for  hay  and  other 
provender.  But  how  has  it  turned  out  ?  The  stage  companies  have 
become  the  proprietors  of  the  omnibuses  running  from  the  various 
stopping-places  of  the  rail  cars.  And  for  the  use  of  those  omnibuses, 
and  for  drays,  coaches  and  private  vehicles,  and  more  recently  for 
horse  railroads,  the  number  of  horses  in  the  State,  and  their  price 
too,  has  probably  doubled  or  trebled  since  the  first  rail  was  laid  here, 
and  the  consumption  of  hay  and  oats  has  increased  in  a  corresponding 


12 

ratio.  Other  interesting  particulars  will  leadily  suggest  themselves, 
illustrative  of  the  incidental  benefits  of  railroads,  equally  unforeseen 
by  their  projectors  and  the  community  at  large. 

Let  us  now  consider  some  of  the  objections  that  would  be  likely  to 
be  urged  against  the  establishing  of  these  fairs.  It  may  be  said  per- 
haps that  they  propose  too  great  an  innovation  on  the  present  modes 
of  disposing  of  agricultural  products,  to  meet  with  much  favor  from 
the  farming  community.  We  all  know  with  what  reluctance  farmers 
quit  long  establisiied  habits  and  practices,  and  how  slow  they  are  to 
make  any  change  in  them.  Nor  can  it  be  denied  that  a  most  radical 
change  is  here  proposed  to  them,  and  one  which  needs  to  have  a  fair 
start  given  to  it,  in  order  to  overcome  the  standing  objections  to  every 
new  enterprise.  To  take  again  for  illustration  the  case  of  railroads, 
when  they  Avere  first  talked  of,  the  conservative  men  on  all  sides 
cried  out  against  this  change  from  the  long  tried  and  well  approved 
modes  of  travel  on  the  public  highvva3^  Those  in  any  way  interested 
in  keeping  things  as  they  were,  joined  in  the  cry  of  "  let  well  enough 
alone." 

"  But,"  says  J.  R.  Williams,  in  an  address  before  the  Michigan  State 
Agricultural  Society,  in  l.'So'i,  when  speaking  of  the  old  maxim  that 
it  is  best  to  "let  well  enough  alone,"  "it  depends  upon  what  'well 
enough'  means.  As  a  maxim  for  a  farmer  it  is  pernicious.  I  hold 
in  my  hand  two  peaches.  They  grew  upon  trees  which  sprung  from 
different  pits  of  the  same  original  tree.  This  large,  blushing,  richly- 
tinted,  melting,  thin-skinned  and  smuU-stoned  peach,  is  cultivated 
fruit.  The  small,  woolly,  tough-skinned  and  large-stoned  peach,  is 
the  natural  fruit,  the  'let  well  enough  alone'  kind.  I  hold  in  my 
hand  two  apples,  plucked  from  the  same  tree,  one  from  a  grafted,  and 
one  from  a  natural  branch.  One  is  the  cultivated  fruit,  the  other  is 
the  '  let  well  enough  alone'  kind.  You  perceive  the  distinction  is 
as  marked  in  the  apple  as  in  the  peach.  These  are  a  type  and  fit 
illustration  of  progress  and  perfection  in  every  branch  of  agri- 
culture." 

Notwithstanding  the  doubts  of  some,  and  the  gloomy  forebodings 
of  others,  the  railroads  were  started  and  they  who  at  first  were  most 
opposed  to  them,  have  been  as  ready  as  any  to  avail  themselves  of  their 
benefits.  So  it  would  most  probably  be  with  these  fairs — once  start- 
ed under  favorable  circumstances,  they  would  give  the  best  proof,  by 
actual  experiment,  of  their  superiority  over  the  present  modes  of  sell- 
ing and  buying  agricultural  products.  Jt  would  doubtless  take  time 
to  turn  the  current  of  trade  into  the  nevv  channels — but  it  would 
come — and  the  wonder  would  then  be  that  the  work  had  not  been 
undertaken  long  ago. 

It  may  be  objected  to  these  fairs,  too,  that  they  are  not  adapted  to 
the  habits  of  our  people — that  they  partake  too  much  of  the  character 
of  holidays  to  be  favorably  received  by  them.  But,  it  may  be  asked, 
how  can  this  be  determined  without  making  the  trial?  In  fact,  it  is 
in  our  power  to  give  to  them  just  such  a  character  as  we  please.  And 
should  they  become  the  means  of  inducing  our  farmers  to  spend  a  few 
hours  occasionally  in  innocent  and  rational  recreation,  it  may  well  be 
questioned  whether  the  effect  on  their  minds  or  morals  would  be  at 


13 

all  injurious.  It  is  the  bow  that  is  always  bent  that  loses  its  elasticity, 
so  the  mind  that  is  constantly  intent  on  business  and  is  never  unstrung 
in  social  intercourse,  loses  its  quickness  of  perception  and  its  keen- 
ness of  judgment ;  tlie  heai't  that  is  never  warmed  into  a  genial  glow 
of  cheerfulness  and  pleasure,  becomes  cold  and  torpid.  We  should 
not  be  sorry  to  see  as  an  effect  of  these  fairs,  more  of  the  "  good 
humor  and  all  social  affections  and  generous  sentiments  among  the 
people,"  which  the  Constitution  specially  enjoins  upon  legislators  and 
magistrates  in  all  future  periods  of  this  Commonwealth  to  counte- 
nance and  inculcate. 

Other  objections  might  be  raised  to  an  enterprise  so  novel  and 
untried  as  this  would  be  among  us.  It  is  not  necessary,  however,  to 
go  into  the  further  consideration  of  them  for  the  reason  that  we  can- 
not conceive  of  any  sufficiently  serious  to  require  it.  It  should  be 
borne  in  mind  that  the  practical  question  is,  not  whether  there  are 
any  evils  to  which  these  fairs  might  be  liable,  but  whether  they  would 
be  overbalanced  by  the  positive  benefits  resulting  from  them.  And 
this  question  could  best — and  perhaps  only,  be  settled  by  an  actual 
experiment  of  establishing  them.  And  this  brings  us  to  the  consid- 
eration of  the  best  practical  method  of  commencing  and  continuing 
these  fairs  throughout  the  State,  so  as  to  create  new  markets  for  the 
farmer. 

And  first  it  would  be  highly  desirable,  if  not  essential,  that  the 
farmers  of  the  Commonwealth  should  be  more  fully  informed  as  to 
the  working  of  these  fairs  and  the  advantages  to  be  expected  from 
them,  in  order  to  their  co-operating  with  earnestness  and  energy  in 
their  establishment.  If  it  be  true — and  of  this  it  is  too  late  to  doubt — 
that  "  where  there  is  a  will  there  is  a  way,"  the  first  great  object  in 
starting  this  enterprise  is  to  secure  the  hearty  good-will — the  intelli- 
gent and  the  united  will  of  the  farming  community  in  its  favor. 
This,  we  are  persuaded,  is  vital  to  its  success.  With  this  view,  meet- 
ings might  be  held  in  the  winter  months  in  the  different  counties,  the 
question  fully  discussed  and  a  vote  taken  upon  it.  A  series  of  such 
meetings  might  be  held  in  different  parts  of  the  same  county,  until 
the  subject  was  brought  before  its  whole  agricultural  population  and 
their  minds  were  known,  with  some  degree  of  certainty,  upon  it. 
And  in  addition  to  this,  circulars  might  be  issued  by  the  State  Soci- 
ety, to  be  distributed  through  the  County  Societies,  setting  forth  the 
advantages  of  these  fairs,  and  requesting  the  opinions  of  those  to 
whom  they  were  addressed,  as  to  the  practicability  of  establishing 
such  fairs  in  their  several  neighborhoods,  and  the  times  and  places  at 
which  they  could  best  be  held,  also  desiring  each  person  to  say  what 
part,  if  any,  he  would  take  in  giving  them  his  support  by  his  attend-" 
ance  and  otherwise.  When  all  this  had  been  done,  we  should  be  in  a 
position  to  judge  whether  it  were  advisable  to  proceed  in  establishing 
the  fairs,  or  not.  If  the  whole  popular  current  was  decidedly  against 
it,  or  such  a  degree  of  apathy  and  indifference  was  manifested  in 
respect  to  it  as  to  make  its  success  highly  doubtful,  then  we  should 
say  that  it  was  best  to  wait  for  *'  the  good  time  coming,"  rather  than 
to  attempt  to  force  its  advent.     But  if  the  public  sentiment,  as  thus 


14 


ascertained,  were  favorable  to  the  undertaking,  especially  if  a  certain 
enthusiasm  were  excited  in  the  subject,  start  it  then,  bj  all  means, 
and  the  sooner  the  better.  There  need  be  but  little  formality  about 
it.  Let  individuals  in  the  several  neighborhoods  near  the  fair,  asso- 
ciate themselves  together  by  agreeing  to  attend,  either  to  buy  or  sell, 
one  taking  this  and  another  that  article,  and  all  determining  to  lend 
his  aid  and  encouragement  to  it.  One  enthusiastic  person  in  a  neigh- 
borhood— an  energetic,  persistent  man,  not  easily  deterred  by  trifles, 
one  that  sees  few  or  no  obstacles  in  the.  way  when  a  good  enterprise 
is  stai'ted ;  or,  seeing  them,  summons  fresh  pluck  to  surmount  them, 
will  certainly  succeed  in  enlisting  the  hearty  good-will  and  co- 
operation of  nearly  all  with  whom  he  comes  in  contact.  With  book 
and  pencil  in  hand  let  him  call  on  his  neighbors  and  talk  over  the 
matter  freely  with  them,  and  then  note  down  what  this  one  and  that 
will  do  to  help  on  the  fair, — specifying  the  articles  they  would  sev- 
erally agree  to  carry  to  it.  The  power  of  associated  action  and  the 
force  of  example,  would  in  this  way  operate  quietly  but  effectually. 
A  few  such  men — young  men,  if  they  can  be  enlisted — will  act  like 
leaven  to  leaven  the  whole  mass. 

There  need  be  no  regulations  made  and  published  as  to  the  buying 
and  selling,  not  even  that  the  sales  shall  be  for  cash  payments,  which 
would  certainly  be  the  most  desirable  mode  of  trade.  The  fair  would 
be  the  farmers'  exchange — just  as  the  merchants  have  their  exchange 
in  the  city — where  they  meet  to  transact  business,  and  self-interest 
and  mutual  convenience  make  the  bargains.  Neither  are  thert?  need- 
ed any  public  yards  or  buildings  for  the  display  of  animals  or  other 
products  of  the  farm  ;  but  they  would  be  offered  for  sale  at  particular 
points,  which  would  soon  become  well  known  to  the  public.  On  the 
23d  of  June  last,  Sanford  Howard,  of  the  Boston  Cultivator,  attended 
a  cattle  fair  at  Kilmaurs,  in  Scotland.  In  a  letter  published  just  after- 
wards in  that  paper,  he  says,  "  there  were  there  about  four  hundred 
head  of  cattle,  mostly  Ayrshire  cows  and  heifers,  the  greater  part  of 
which  changed  hands,  although  the  market  was  dull.  They  were 
collected  in  the  principal  street  of  the  village,  the  lots  of  the  different 
owners  being  kept  separated  by  men  and  dogs.  The  purchasers 
looked  over  the  animals,  and  having  decided  on  the  ones  they  Avanted, 
and  asked  the  price,  made  offers,  at  the  same  time  extending  their 
hands.  If  the  offers  were  accepted,  the  parties  shook  hands  and  that 
consummated  the  transaction."  The  whole  is  a  very  simple  affair — 
as  simple  as  Columbus  making  the  egg  stand  on  its  end — if  we  would 
but  take  hold  in  earnest  and  determine  to  have  it  succeed.  Only 
make  a  beginning  by  collecting  together  on  a  fixed  day  and  at  a  fixed 
■place,  agricultural  products  and  men  in  sufficient  numbers,  and  the 
market  is  established.  The  success  of  one  such  day  would  be  almost 
sure  to  command  success  on  the  next,  and  after  a  few  such  days  the 
market-day  would  become  a  permanent  and  popular  institution,  and 
would  be  noted  in  the  almanac,  as  the  different  terms  of  the  Courts 
are  noted. 

Another  important  question,  and  one  requiring  much  care  and  de- 
liberation in  deciding  it,  is,  how  often  and  where  shall  these  fairs  be 


15 

held  ?  It  is  clear  that  this  must  be  left  with  some  body  of  men,  in 
whom  the  public  have  confidence.  The  different  Agricultural  Socie- 
ties that  receive  the  bounty  of  the  Commonwealth,  and  are  required 
to  make  an  annual  return  to  it  of  their  transactions,  might  be  request- 
ed to  take  upon  themselves  this  duty.  Composed  as  these  societies 
very  generally  are  of  farmers,  they  have  the  confidence  of  the 
farmers,  and  they  can  best  fix  the  times  and  places  of  the  fairs, 
with  the  proper  discretion.  By  their  trustees,  or  by  committees 
chosen  for  the  purpose,  they  might  exercise  the  necessary  power  with 
regard  to  the  whole  matter,  with  but  little  danger  of  its  being  abused. 
They  should,  in  the  first  place,  map  out  the  county,  and  then  select 
such  points  as  would  best  accommodate  the  population,  having  refer- 
ence to  railroad  and  other  facilities.  The  railroad  companies  could 
well  afford  to  encourage  the  fairs,  by  charging  but  half-price  to  those 
who  pass  over  their  roads  to  the  market.  To  make  this  matter  more 
specific,  let  us  take  for  example  the  County  of  Essex — that  being  the 
county  with  which  the  writer  is  most  familiar — and  let  four  towns  be 
fixed  upon  as  near  as  may  be  to  its  four  corners,  as  the  places  where 
monthly  fairs  or  market-days  shall  be  held  thi'oughout  the  yeai*.  Such 
four  places  might  be  Danvers,  (at  the  Plains,)  Ipswich,  Newburyport, 
and  North  Andover,  (at  Sutton's  Mills.)  Three  of  these  towns  have  at 
least  two  railroads  running  directly  to  or  through  them  ;  and  one, 
Ipswich,  has  the  Eastern  Railroad  passing  through  its  center.  Hav- 
ing settled  upon  these  towns  and  the  points  in  them,  at  which  the 
market  could  best  be  held,  on  the  first  Wednesday  in  January  let 
a  market  be  held  at  Danvers,  due  notice  having  been  given  to  that 
effect.  On  the  second  Wednesday  in  January  let  a  market  come  off 
at  Ipswich ;  the  third  Wednesday  at  Newburyport,  and  the  fourth 
Wednesday  at  North  Andover,  and  so  go  through  each  month  in  the 
year,  observing  the  same  order  as  to  the  days.  In  this  way,  it  would 
soon  be  known  that  the  first  Wednesday  of  every  month  was  market- 
day  at  Danvers,  and  so  of  the  other  towns,  they  would  always  have 
the  same  Wednesday  in  the  month  for  their  market-day.  At  first 
these  markets  might  not  be  so  fully  attended,  but  still  they  should  be 
observed,  rain  or  shine,  brisk  times  or  dull.  As  the  fairs  are  started, 
in  respect  of  place  and  day,  so  they  should  be  continued,  for  the 
reason  that  a  change  would  be  difficult ;  but  more  especially  that 
the  habit  of  attending  a  particular  market  at  a  regularly  recurring 
time,  would  thus  become  fixed  in  the  life  of  the  farmei\  And  in  order 
to  accommodate  the  whole  county  by  a  larger  display  of  stock,  let 
some  central  town,  such  as  Topsfield  or  Georgetown,  having  good 
railroad  facilities — be  the  place  for  holding  a  market  day  for  neat 
stock  and  horses  in  the  spring  and  fall,  the  first  Friday  in  May  and 
October  being  suitable  days  for  that  purpose,  and  not  interfering  with 
the  other  markets. 

And  in  order  to  encourage  this  whole  enterprise  in  its  infancy,  it 
might  be  advisable  for  the  Agricultural  Societies  or  public  spirited 
individuals  to  offer  premiums  for  certain  farm  proditcts,  that  cannot 
so  Avell  be  presented  at  the  regular  cattle  shows,  and  do  not  receive 
any  encouragement  from  them.     For  example,  the  best  poultry  in  all 


16 

its  varieties,  dressed  for  the  market,  mutton,  pork,  veal  and  other 
meats,  might  thus  be  noticed.  The  best  lot  of  honey  and  eggs,  of 
butter  and  cheese,  of  cranberries,  quinces  and  apples,  and  of  fruits  and 
vegetables  generally,  might  also  receive  the  fostering  aid  of  the  soci- 
eties. The  advantage  of  this  mode  of  bestowing  premiums  is,  that  it 
would  be  the  best  lot  of  a  given  product,  as  prepared  for  market 
and  exposed  to  sale,  that  would  receive  them,  and  not  the  best 
specimens,  culled  and  fitted  for  parade,  as  is  too  often  the  case  at 
our  fairs. 


r       NO.  4.        "1 
LNEW  SEKIES.J 


PRIZE  ESSAY 


PREPARATION   AND   APPLICATION 


MANURES. 


BY 

JOSEPH  REYNOLDS,  M.D., 

OF  CONCORD,  MASS. 


BOSTON: 

1858. 

J.    H.   EASTBURN'S   PRESS. 


ESSAY. 


In  treating  of  the  preparation  and  application  of  Manures,  several 
other  points  naturally,  and  almost  necessai-ily  suggest  themselves.  In 
discussing  their  preparation,  one  can  hardly  avoid  inquiring  into  their 
com])osition,  and  the  sources  from  which  their  component  elements 
are  dei'ived,  and  before  one  is  prepared  to  apply  them,  he  must  ascer- 
tain the  effects  which  they  produce,  for  it  is  by  a  careful  observation 
of  these  effects,  that  he  is  to  be  guided,  rather  than  by  rules  derived 
from  theory. 

The  Preparation  of  Manures. 

In  considering  the  best  mode  of  preparing  any  substa7ice,  we  must 
obviously  ascertain,  at  the  outset,  of  what  it  consists.  Our  first 
inquiry  then  must  be,  what  elements  are  essential  to  constitute  any 
substance  a  manure. 

To  this  inquiry  I  reply, 

1st.  Manures 
consist  of  carbonaceous  matter  already  combined  with  oxygen,  or  in  a 
condition  to  be  combined  with  it,  thus  forming  carbonic  acid.  Carbo- 
naceous matter  is  formed  by  the  decay  or  decomposition  of  the  woody 
fibre  of  vegetables,  of  starch,  gum,  sugar,  and  oils,  into  the  composition 
of  all  which,  carbon  largely  enters.  Carbon  constitutes  the  frame- 
work, or  chief  bulk  of  all  vegetables,  and  is  left,  more  or  less  free 
from  all  other  elements,  in  decayed  vegetable  substances.  It  consti- 
tutes the  bulk  of  all  the  solid  excrementitious  matter,  which  passes 
through  animals.  Hence  all  ordinary  manures,  whether  consisting  of 
animal  excrement,  or  of  vegetable  matter,  in  the  form  of  muck,  decay- 
ed grasses,  straw,  leaves,  fruit,  wood  or  other  vegetable  growths,  are 
composed  very  largely  of  carbon. 

2d.     Salts. 

Manures  contain  the  salts  of  lime,  potash,  soda,  magnesia,  silex, 
ammonia,  sulphur  and  iron,  all  of  which,  except  ammonia,  are  found 
in  vegetables,  and  are  derived  from  the  soil.  They  are  all  found,  also, 
in  the  secretions  of  animals,  especially  in  their  liquid  secretions,  being 
derived  by  them  chiefly  from  the  vegetables  on  which  they  feed. 
Ammonia  is  abundant  in  animal  secretions,  being  formed  in  them  by 
the  chemical  union  of  nitrogen  and  hydrogen.  This  is  an  important 
element  in  many  manures,  as  it  furnishes  for  the  use  of  plants,  nitrogen 
and  hydrogen,  and  also  operates  as  a  stimulant  to  their  secreting  and 
assimilating  vessels. 

What  are  called  animal  manures,  which  consist  of  decaying  animal 
substances,  as  flesh,  hair,  feathers,  skins,  &;c.,  yield  a  large  quantity 


of  ammonia,  it  being  formed  in  the  process  of  putrefaction,  by  the 
chemical  union  of  their  nitrogen  with  the  hydrogen  of  water. 

3d.     Gases. 

Manures  contain  elements  in  the  form  of  gases,  as  oxygen,  hydro- 
gen, nitrogen  and  their  various  compounds  with  other  substances,  as 
sulphuretted  hydrogen,  consisting  of  sulphur  and  hydrogen  ;  phos- 
phuretted  hydrogen,  composed  of  phosphorus  and  hydrogen ;  and 
carbonic  acid,  compounded  of  carbon  and  oxygen.  Ammonia  usually 
exists  in  manures  in  a  gaseous  form,  except  when  combined  with  sul- 
phuric or  other  acids. 

4th.     Acids. 

Acids,  either  in  a  free  state  or  combined  with  alkaline  bases  and 
metals,  are  also  found  in  manures;  as  sulphuric,  muriatic,  nitric, 
phosphoric,  carbonic  acid,  &c.  These  acids,  with  the  exception  of  the 
carbonic,  are  seldom  found  in  a  free  state,  but  generally  in  a  state  of 
combination ;  as  sulphate  of  lime,  nitrate  of  potash,  phosphate  of 
ammonia,  &c. 

5  th.     Water. 

The  fifth  important  element  contained  in  manures,  is  water.  This 
contains  in  solution,  the  earths,  acids  and  gases.  It  is  the  universal 
solvent  employed  by  nature,  and  is  always  present,  when  vegetable 
or  animal  growth  is  going  on,  furnishing  to  the  vessels  of  the  different 
organs,  in  that  state  of  minute  division,  which  can  be  obtained  only  by 
solution,  the  elements  which  they  require  to  construct  their  various 
tissues,  and  not  only  so,  but  freely  yielding  up  the  oxygen  and  hydro- 
gen of  which  itself  consists,  when  one  or  both  are  required.  These 
elements,  viz. :  carbon,  alkaline  salts,  silex,  sulphur,  iron,  gases,  acids 
and  water,  are  the  elements  usually  found  in  manures.  They  are 
rarely  all  found  in  any  one  manure,  and  are  found  in  diffeient  pro- 
portions in  different  manures.  Hence  thedifferent  effects  of  different 
manures.  Manure  consisting  chiefly  of  carbonaceous  matters,  when 
applied  to  soils  containing  a  large  percentage  of  humus  or  carbon,  will 
produce  but  little  effect  upon  the  growing  crop.  Such  a  soil  requires 
manures  containing  a  large  quantity  of  alkalies  or  nitrogenous  matter. 
A  manure  consisting  largely  of  carbon,  is  specially  adapted  to  sandy 
loams,  from  which  the  carbon  has  been  exhausted. 

How  many  of  the  elements  above  named  are  necessary  to  constitute 
a  manure'? 

In  order  to  answer  this  question  understandingly,  it  is  necessary 
first  to  determine  the  condition  of  the  soil  to  which  it  is  to  be 
applied,  for  that  may  be  considered  a  manure,  which  supplies  any 
want  of  the  soil ;  and  secondly,  the  elements  specially  wanted  by 
the  crop  to  be  cultivated  upon  it.  All  the  constituents  above  named 
are  necessary  to  furnish  a  perfect  manure  ;  that  is,  a  manure  that 
shall  be  suited  to  all  kinds  of  crops,  in  all  kinds  of  soils.  But  were 
all  manures  so  constituted,  it  is  probable  that  a  portion  of  the  elements 
would  be  wasted  in  all  cases ;  or,  in  other  words,  that  they  would  not 


all  be  wanted,  in  any  one  case.  Several  of  these  elements  are  vola- 
tile in  their  cliaracter,  and  of  eourse,  will  not  remain  permanently  in 
the  soil.  If  they  are  not  wanted  for  the  immediate  crop,  there  will 
be  a  waste  of  material.  Could  we  determine,  in  all  cases,  the  wants 
of  the  soil,  and  the  wants  of  the  cro[),  and  then  apply  only  those 
elements  of  manure  that  will  meet  these  wants,  it  is  obvious  that  a 
great  amount  of  material  would  be  saved.  But  the  difficulties  in  the 
way  of  determining  these  wants,  and  of  so  combining  and  adapting 
the  needed  manurial  elements,  are  so  great,  that  they  can  never  be 
wholly  ovei'come,  and  we  must  be  content  to  submit  to  the  loss  result- 
ing from  our  ignorance  and  inability.  But  science  and  observation 
may  do  something  towards  meeting  these  difficulties.  Here  is  a  fine 
opportunity  for  the  exercise  of  the  discrimination  and  judgment  of  the 
cultivator. 

Having  now  spoken  of  the  elements  contained  in  manures,  we  are 
prepared  to  speak  of  the  sources  from  which  they  are  derived,  and  of 
their  preparation.  Carbonaceous  matter,  as  we  have  seen,  results 
from  the  natural  decay  or  chemical  decomposition  of  vegetables.  Accu- 
mulated masses  of  vegetables,  as  leaves,  wood,  grasses,  straw,  the 
stalks  and  stems  of  all  plants,  fruits,  roots,  grains,  &c.,  under  favora- 
ble conditions,  ra[)idly  undergo,  first,  the  fermentative,  and  secondly 
the  putrefactive  process.  By  favorable  conditions,  is  meant  the 
proper  degree  of  temperature,  and  the  proper  amount  of  moisture. 
When  there  is  too  much  or  too  little  heat,  or  too  much  or  too  little 
moisture,  the  process  of  fermentation  will  not  go  on. 

When  masses  of  vegetable  matter  are  collected  under  favorable 
circumstances,  their  fibres  soften  and  swell,  and  become  permeable  to 
air  and  water.  Their  salts,  starch,  sugar  and  gluten  and  extractive 
matter  are  dissolved ;  their  carbon  combines  with  oxygen,  and  car- 
bonic acid  is  rapidly  formed,  and  permeates  the  whole  mass.  This 
acid  combines  with  the  alkalies  that  may  be  present,  and  thus  carbon- 
ates of  lime,  potash,  soda  and  ammonia  are  formed.  After  a  time, 
certain  elements  in  the  mass  take  on  the  putrefactive  process.  This 
process  is  due  chiefly  to  the  presence  of  gluten  and  nitrogenous  ele- 
ments, such  as  those  derived  from  animal  sources.  Animal  substances 
rapidly  pass  into  the  putrefactive  process,  and  the  larger  the  propor- 
tion of  such  substances  combined  with  the  vegetable  masses,  the  more 
rapidly  putrefaction  occurs. 

Hence  the  addition  of  a  portion  of  animal  manures  to  vegetable 
matter,  greatly  facilitates  puti'efaction  and  decomposition.  By  this 
process,  nitrogen  is  set  at  liberty,  and  combines  with  the  hydrogen  of 
the  water,  or  with  that  which  it  finds  in  a  solid  form  in  the  vegetable 
substance,  and  forms  ammonia,  which,  combining  with  the  carbonic 
acid  which  is  being  rapidly  evolved  at  the  same  time,  forms  carbon- 
ate of  ammonia,  the  form  in  which  ammonia  is  usually  presented  to 
us.  Hydrogen  is  also  rapidly  developed  by  the  putrefactive  process, 
and  combines  with  sulphur  and  phosphorus  when  present,  forming 
sulphuretted  and  phosphuretted  hydrogen,  the  gases  which  so  ofiend 
our  sense  of  smell  in  manures.  These  gases  are  liigldy  volatile,  and 
when  the  surfaces  of  the  putrefying  mass  are  freely  exposed  to  the 
atmosphere,  are  rapidly  dissipated.     Some  substances  have  the  power 


of  absorbing  a  large  amount  of  these  gases,  and  of  retaining  them 
with  considerable  tenacity.  Carbon  itself,  when  nearly  pure  and  dry, 
has  a  strong  affinity  for  them.  Hence  the  addition  of  dry  pulverized 
charcoal  or  of  peat,  will  absorb  them  in  large  quantities.  From  this 
property  is  derived  the  power  of  these  substances,  as  deodorizers. 
The  sulphates  of  lime,  iron  and  zinc  have  a  similar  power.  These 
sulphates  have  also  the  power  of  decomposing  carbonate  of  ammonia, 
displacing  the  carbonic  acid,  and  forming  sulphate  of  ammonia,  which 
is  not  volatile.  Sulphuric  acid,  nitric  acid,  and  chloric  acid  will  de- 
compose carbonate  of  ammonia,  forming  sulphate,  nitrate,  or  chloride 
of  ammonia,  which  salts  are  not  volatile.  Hence  the  value  of  these 
acids  to  combine  with  alkalies,  and  especially  with  ammonia,  forming 
with  them  soluble  salts. 

The  result,  then,  of  decomposition  as  we  usually  find  it,  in  the  form 
of  vegetable  compost,  is  carbonaceous  matter,  combined  with  certain 
salts. 

Vegetable  substances  are  also  decomposed  in  the  digestive  organs 
of  animals,  by  a  process,  in  many  respects,  similar  to  that  which  we 
have  already  described.  The  vegetable  fibre  is  comminuted  by  the 
teeth,  and  softened  and  permeated  by  the  fluids  contained  in  the 
organs  of  the  animal.  A  large  portion  of  the  starch,  gum,  sugar, 
gluten  and  salts,  are  dissolved  out,  and  taken  up  by  the  lacteal  vessels 
of  the  animal,  to  serve  the  purposes  of  nutrition.  The  remainder, 
mixed  as  we  have  said,  with  the  juices  of  the  animal,  containing  in 
solution  various  substances,  is  ejected.  This  process  is  accomplished 
much  more  rapidly  than  the  ordinary  process  of  vegetable  decay,  and 
the  substance  resulting  is  mixed  with  a  large  amount  of  animal  mat- 
ter, which  fits  it  for  rapid  putrefaction.  The  animal  matter  acts  the 
part  of  a  leaven,  which  sets  up  the  putrefactive  process,  whenever  the 
necessary  conditions  are  present.  There  is  this  difference  between 
the  reduction  of  vegetables  by  the  ordinary  process  of  composting, 
and  by  the  process  of  animal  digestion,  viz. :  that  in  the  latter  pro- 
cess, vegetables  are  made  to  afford  nutriment  to  animals,  while  Jinder- 
going  reduction,  and  yet  in  consequence  of  the  condition  to  which 
they  are  brought,  and  of  the  additions  which  they  receive,  they  are 
more  valuable  as  manures,  than  when,  without  serving  the  purposes 
of  nutrition,  they  are  reduced  by  the  former  process.  These  two 
processes,  vegetable  composting,  and  the  feeding  of  animals  with  vege- 
tables, are  the  sources  from  which  carbonaceous  manures  are  chiefly 
obtained.  But  the  slow  decomposition  of  vegetables  is  always  going 
on  in  nature,  and  thus  one  generation  of  plants  is  made  to  afford 
nutriment  to  those  that  come  after  it.  The  carbonaceous  matter 
resulting  from  the  decay  of  vegetables,  is  not  all  taken  up,  as  it  is 
formed.  Immense  masses  of  it  have  accumulated  in  meadows, 
swamps  and  basins,  by  the  action  of  obvious  causes. 

These  accumulations  of  vegetable  debris,  mingled  with  more  or  less 
of  insoluble  earths,  constitute  muck  or  peat,  and  are  capable  of  fur- 
nishing an  almost  unlimited  amount  of  carbonaceous  matter,  in  a  con- 
dition to  be  made  rapi'lly  subservient  to  the  purposes  of  cultivation. 

This  material  differs  considerably  in  condition,  and  in  composition. 
In  some  deposits,  it  is  much  more  purely  carbonaceous  matter,  than 


in  others.  In  some,  the  decomposition  is  more  complete  than  in 
others.  But  the  most  important  difference  in  different  parcels  of 
muck  is,  that  one  contains  acids,  or  minerals  combined  with  acids,  in 
very  sensible  pi-oportions,  while  another  is  nearly  or  quite  free  from 
such  compounds.  When  acids  abound  in  muck,  it  is  unfit  to  be  used 
in  a  simple  state,  but  needs  to  be  corrected  by  alkalies  ;  and  of  these, 
lime  seems  to  be  the  best  adapted  to  remedy  the  evil.  Quicklime  mixed 
with  peat,  has  the  effect  of  ra|)idly  rendering  it  pulverulent  and  light. 
Its  influence  seems  to  be  extended  through  the  whole  mass,  like  that 
of  yeast  through  the  whole  mass  of  dough,  while  at  the  same  time,  it 
neutralizes  the  acids,  and  decomposes  the  salts  of  iron  or  other  min- 
erals, forming  salts  of  lime,  which  themselves  are  essential  to  the 
growth  of  many  crops. 

When  muck  is  free,  or  nearly  free  from  acids,  it  may  be  used  by 
itself,  with  great  profit,  on  light  sandy  soils,  or  on  any  soils,  in  which 
the  humus  is  exhausted,  or  it  may  be  composted  with  stable  manure, 
ashes,  guano,  or  animal  matters,  with  peculiar  advantage,  since  it 
has,  as  we  have  already  observed,  the  power  of  absorbing  and  con- 
densing the  gases  arising  from  the  putrefaction  of  these  substances, 
and  thus  will  be  formed  a  manure  adapted  to  nearly  all  the  uses  of 
the  garden  and  the  field.  No  other  substance  seems  so  well  adapted 
to  composting  with  night-soil  or  urine  as  muck,  since  it  deodorizes 
these  substances,  and  retains  all  their  valuable  elements,  and  renders 
them  at  once  manageable,  and  easy  of  application,  and  affords  the 
dilution  which  concentrated  manures  require  for  their  safe  application. 
Composted  with  putrefying  fish,  it  forms  an  exceedingly  valuable 
manure.  The  best  mode  of  preparing  muck  for  use,  is  to  throw  it 
from  its  bed  in  the  autumn,  and  let  it  be  exposed  to  the  action  of  the 
frosts  of  the  succeeding  Avinter.  If  it  is  designed  to  be  composted 
with  lime  or  ashes,  it  may  be  used  the  following  season.  But  if  it  is 
to  be  composted  with  stable  manure,  night-soil,  or  animal  matters, 
it  is  better  to  let  it  remain  until  the  following  autumn,  when  it  should 
be  deposited  in  the  barn-yard  or  cellar,  and  be  mixed  with  the  drop- 
pings of  the  animals,  from  time  to  time.  It  should  be  provided  in 
sufficient  quantity  to  be  used  freely  as  a  deodorizer  about  the  premises, 
whenever  or  wherever  it  may  be  wanted.  It  will  thus  become 
charged  with  gases  and  salts,  and  be  converted  into  a  highly  valuable 
manure,  especially  serviceable  in  garden  culture. 

The  chief  sources  of  carbonaceous  matter  are  then  found  in  vegeta- 
ble composts,  animal  excrements,  and  muck,  and  combined  with  them, 
as  we  have  seen,  are  various  salts  and  gases.  But  these  elements, 
which  are  equally  essential  to  vegetable  growth,  either  as  component 
elements,  or  as  stimulants,  may  be  found  in  more  concentrated  forms, 
in  much  smaller  bulk,  and  capable  of  more  easy  and  direct  applica- 
tion to  plants.  These  fertilizing  elements,  variously  combined  and 
condensed  into  a  small  bulk,  constitute  what  are  called  artificial  ma- 
nures. All  plants  take  from  the  soil  more  or  less  mineral  matters. 
Some  require  them  in  large  quantities.  Such  plants  are  said  to  be 
exhausting  to  the  soil  on  which  they  grow.  The  small  grains,  which 
appropriate  in  their  culms  and  seeds,  a  large  amount  of  silex,  lime 
and  potash,  are  instances  of  this  class.     Other  plants  take  less  from 


8 

the  soil,  and  feed  copiously  upon  the  elements  found  in  the  atmos- 
phere. The  turnip  and  cabbage,  which  are  furnished  with  a  large 
array  of  leaves  for  this  purpose,  are  an  instance  of  the  latter.  The 
elements  to  which  we  now  refer,  are  all  soluble,  and  are  dissolved  and 
washed  out  of  the  soil  by  the  rain,  and  from  land  that  is  well  worked 
and  in  fine  tilth  they  are  rapidly  washed  out,  and,  unless  they  are 
supplied  by  artificial  means,  the  cultivated  soil  becomes  rapidly  de- 
prived of  them.  These  elements  may  be  directly  and  easily  supplied 
to  the  soil.  The  nitrogenous  manures,  as  guano,  night-soil,  pou- 
drette,  urine,  hair,  fish  manure,  and  animal  substances  generally,  con- 
tain in  solution,  or  in  combination  with  acids,  a  large  quantity  of 
mineral  matter,  chiefly  lime,  potash,  and  ammonia,  and  it  is  to  these 
that  they  owe  whatever  permanent  value  they  possess,  their  other 
elements  being  so  soluble  and  volatile,  that  the  effects  of  this  class  of 
manures  are  immediate  and  temporary. 

Another  kind  of  nitrogenous  manures  to  which  but  little  attention 
has  been  paid  in  this  country,  may  be  found  worthy  of  attention. 
I  refer  to  nitre  beds,  which  are  formed  of  soil  mixed  with  potash, 
lime  and  soda,  and  are  protected  from  the  rain  by  roofs  open  on  all 
sides,  to  expose  them  to  the  free  circulation  of  the  air.  The  mixture 
is  frequently  stirred  to  expose  new  surfaces  to  the  air.  The  alkaline 
substances  thus  treated,  combine  with  the  nitrogen  of  the  air,  and  thus 
in  time,  nitrates  of  lime,  potash  and  soda,  are  formed,  and  the  whole 
mass  becomes  strongly  impregnated  with  them.  The  principal  use 
that  has  been  hitherto  made  of  the  substances  thus  treated,  has  been 
to  leach  them,  by  which  the  nitrates  of  potash  and  soda  are  dissolved 
out,  and  reduced  to  a  solid  state,  by  evaporation,  for  the  manufacture 
of  gunpowder,  and  other  purposes  in  the  arts.  There  can  be  no 
doubt,  that  large  quantities  of  manure  might  be  thus  prepared,  which 
would  be  highly  valuable.  Experience  only  can  determine  whether 
it  can  be  done  economically.  But  the  principal  means  by  which 
mineral  matters  are  restored  to  the  soil,  is  the  direct  application  of 
lime,  gypsum,  bones,  ashes,  salt,  sea-weed,  and  nitrates  of  lime  and 
soda,  and  muriates  of  lime,  soda  and  ammonia.  The  effects  of  such 
substances  upon  many  soils  are  very  apparent,  especially  when  their 
application  is  followed  by  crops,  into  whose  composition  such  sub- 
stances largely  enter,  as  Avheat,  oats,  potatoes,  &c. 

Having  spoken  somewhat  at  length  of  the  composition  of  most  of 
the  substances  in  common  use  as  manures,  I  will  speak  briefly  of  their 
preparation.  It  has  already  been  seen,  that  most  of  the  natural 
manures  contain  elements  that  are  soluble  and  volatile.  It  follows, 
of  course,  that  when  such  substances  are  exposed  to  the  rain  and 
snow,  the  soluble  elements  will  be  dissolved  and  washed  out,  and  that, 
if  they  are  exposed  to  the  free  action  of  the  atmosphere,  their  volatile 
elements  will  be  dissipated,  as  fast  as  they  are  developed,  and  this 
will  be,  at  least  with  respect  to  several  of  them,  nearly  in  proportion 
to  the  elevation  of  the  temperature.  The  free  action  of  the  air  will 
not  only  dissipate  their  gases,  but  will  carry  off  the  moisture  which  is 
necessary  to  support  chemical  action.  Hence  it  follows  that  in  col- 
lecting and  preparing  manures  for  the  soil,  whether  they  consist  of 
unmixed  stable  manures,  or  these  composted  with  soil,  muck  or  other 


ven;etable  or  animal  substances,  they  should  be  protected  from  the 
action  of  the  weather.  There  are  iciw  who  can  afford  to  submit  to 
tlie  lo-;s  to  which  they  woukl  otherwise  be  exposed.  Tiie  barn  cellar 
is  perhaps  the  most  convenient  arrangement  for  the  protection  of 
manures,  and  this  is  coming  rapidly  into  use  throughout  tins  State. 
The  cellar  should  be  easy  of  access, — should  be  made  with  a  bottom 
impervious  to  water,  protected  frjm  currents  of  air,  and  if  possible 
secured  from  frost,  so  tliat  tlie  fermentative  and  jjutrefactive  processes 
may  be  going  on  through  the  winter.  Material  should  be  provided 
and  placed  in  or  near  the  cellar,  and  be  spi'ead  frequently  over  the 
fresh  droppings  of  the  animals,  that  it  may  absorb  the  liciuid  portions, 
and  ab?orb  the  gases  as  fast  as  they  are  formed.  The  materials  pro- 
vided should  be  as  dry  as  possible,  that  they  may  retain  the  liquid 
excrement,  and  besides,  in  a  dry  state  loam  and  muck  are  more  ea>ily 
pulverized,  and  mix  more  thoroughly  with  the  droppings.  If  the 
mass,  thus  gradually  formed  in  the  cellar,  is  suffered  to  freeze,  very 
little  decomposition  or  chemical  action  take  place  during  the  winter. 
But  if  the  frost  is  kept  out,  the  laboratory  will  be  at  work  more  or 
less  actively,  through  the  entire  winter,  and  the  manure  will  be  fit  to 
be  used  in  the  early  spring.  It  will  become  softened  and  rendered 
fine,  by  its  own  internal  action,  and  will  not  require  to  be  ovei'hauled, 
for  the  sake  of  breaking  and  pulverizing  it.  Wliereas,  if  it  is  kept 
frozen,  or  near  the  freezing  point,  the  animal  excrement  Avill  be  in 
the  condition  of  green  manure,  and  will  not  so  readily  combine  with 
the  soil,  or  act  so  immediately  upon  the  growing  crops. 

The  farmer  who  has  no  cellar,  should  cover  his  manure  with  a  roof, 
at  least,  to  protect  it  from  the  rain  and  sun.  It  woidd  be  well  for  the 
farmer  who  does  not  cover  his  manure,  to  remove  it  during  the  win- 
ter, into  his  field,  and  deposit  it  in  as  large  masses  as  possible,  that  it 
may  present  the  smallest  surface  to  the  weather,  and  cover  it  neatly 
with  soil,  that  may  protect  it  from  the  rain,  and  absorb  the  gases  as 
fast  as  they  are  formed,  which  will  be  very  slowly  during  the  cold 
weather.  A  quantity  of  dried  muck  may  be  provided  in  the  autumn, 
near  where  it  is  intended  to  deposit  the  manure  from  the  barn,  and 
be  mixed  with  it  as  it  is  deposited,  and  used  to  cover  the  heap. 
Heaps  of  compost  thus  ])rei)ared,  require  to  be  overhauled  in  the 
early  s])ring,  and  the  ingredients  to  be  well  mixed.  It  is  an  excellent 
practice  to  mix  with  them,  as  they  are  being  ovei'hauled,  gypsum,  or 
a  solution  of  sulphate  of  iron,  or  diluted  sulphuric  acid,  as  these  will 
combine  with,  and  retain  the  ammonia,  as  it  is  formed  in  the  ferment- 
ing mass.  Ashes  or  quicklime  should  never  be  directly  combined 
with  green  manure,  or  urine,  or  any  substan<?e,  as  guano,  for  exam- 
ple, which  contains  a  large  amount  of  carbonate  of  ammonia,  as  they 
will  combine  with  the  carbonic  acid,  and  set  free  the  ammonia  in  a 
gaseous  form,  which,  unless  some  other  substance  having  a  strong 
atlhiity  for  it,  is  present,  to  combine  with  it,  will  of  course  be  lost. 
AVhen  it  is  desirable  to  apply  lime  or  ashes  to  the  same  soil  with 
stable  manure,  or  compost  consicr^ting  partly  of  stable  manure,  the  best 
method  probably  is,  to  plough  in  the  matnjre,  and  spread  the  lime  or 
ashes  bi'oadcast  over  the  surface,  or  apply  it  in  the  hill  with  the  seed, 
when  hoed  crops  are  to  be  cultivated.     The  principle,  which  should 

4—2 


10 

ever  be  kept  in  view,  in  the  preparation  and  application  of  manures, 
is,  tliat  they  should  be  applied  to  the  soil  in  their  integrity,  that  is, 
containing  all  the  elements  belonging  to  their  constitution.  If  a  por- 
tion of  these  elements  are  difiused  into  the  atmosphere  instead  of  the 
soil,  it  is  obvious  that  a  portion  has  been  lost,  and  that  portion  is 
usually  the  most  active  and  the  most  stimulating.  Some  persons  pre- 
fer to  introduce  stable  manures  into  the  soil,  in  a  crude  or  green  state. 
In  this  condition  it  is  in  a  state  of  integrity,  and  all  its  elements,  as 
they  are  developed,  are  absorbed  by  the  soil,  and  we  are  not  sur- 
prised that  those  who  have  never  experienced  the  advantages  of  com- 
posting in  a  cellar,  should  prefer  this  mode  of  application. 

We  have  already  referred  to  the  combination  of  muck  with  night- 
soil.  Probably  there  is  no  better  mode  of  preparing  this  highly  valua- 
ble substance  for  common  use,  as  a  manui'e,  than  by  mixing  it  with 
a  sufficient  quantity  of  muck  in  a  dry  state,  to  absorb  its  moisture, 
and  destroy  its  odor.  If  a  quantity  of  plaster,  or  a  little  diluted  sul- 
phuric acid  be  added  to  this  composition,  we  shall  have  one  of  the 
best  manures  that  can  be  composed,  for  most  crops,  and  especially  for 
garden  and  fruit  crops. 

Liquid  Manures. 

The  saving  and  use  of  liquid  manures  is  deserving  of  more  atten- 
tion than  it  has  yet  received  in  this  country.  It  is  easy  so  to  arrange 
the  stalls  of  cattle,  as  to  receive  their  urine  into  troughs  under  the 
floor,  and  to  convey  it  into  a  cistern  in  the  cellar,  or  outside  of  the 
barn.  This  may  be  pumped  into  a  water-cart,  to  which  a  sprinkler  is 
attached,  similar  to  those  used  in  watering  the  streets.  If  it  is 
pumped  in  through  a  strainer,  the  sprinkler  does  not  become  clogged, 
and  it  may  be  rapidly  conveyed  to  the  field,  and  disti'ibuted  as  a  top- 
dressing,  upon  grass  or  grain,  Avith  immediate  effect.  When  the  soil 
is  not  deficient  in  carbonaceous  elements,  there  can  probably  be  no 
better  top-dressing  applied.  It  is  not  as  permanent  in  its  effects  as 
the  solid  excrement,  but  more  immediate,  and  it  may  be  applied  twice 
a  year  upon  grass,  with  less  expense  of  labor  than  one  dressing  of 
solid  manure.  The  cost  of  the  necessary  apparatus  for  saving  and 
distributing  it,  is  small.  As  a  top-dressing  for  a  field  where  turnips 
are  to  be  grown,  it  is  very  excellent.  As  a  top-dressing  in  the  spring, 
or  during  the  summer,  for  pasture  lands,  it  is  perhaps  superior  to  any 
dressing  that  can  be  applied.  If  the  undiluted  urine  is  thought  too 
strong,  it  may  be  easily  diluted  in  the  field,  if  water  is  at  hand. 
A  gentleman  of  my  acquaintance,  who  has  been  using  it  as  a  top-dress- 
ing for  grass,  during  the  three  years  past,  considers  it  fully  equal  in 
value  to  the  solid  excrement  of  the  same  animals,  and  he  states  that 
one  man  can  dress  as  much  land  in  this  way,  in  one  day,  as  two  men 
can,  with  solid  manure,  in  two  days,  without  taking  into  account  the 
expense  and  labor  of  collecting  and  mixing  the  material  of  which 
compost  is  made.  If  this  statement  be  correct,  it  must  be  more 
economical  than  any  compost,  as  a  dressing.  When  applied  to  land 
in  which  humus  is  deficient,  it  will  not  probably  be  found  to  meet  all 
the  wants  of  the  crops.  Its  effects  will  be  much  like  those  of  guano, 
on  similar  soils.     It  remains  to  be  determined  by  experience  whether 


11 

it  is  of  equal  value  with  superphosphate  of  lime,  ashes,  plaster,  guano, 
or  other  concentrated  manures,  as  a  top-dressing.  These  may  all  be 
applied  with  equal  facility,  and  with  even  less  labor,  and  some  of 
them,  as  ashes  and  lime,  are  more  permanent  in  their  effects.  In 
applying  liquid  manure  as  a  top-dressing,  the  labor  of  one  man  and 
horse  will  top-dress  an  acre  in  a  day,  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  the 
barn.  This  would  be  worth  not  far  from  three  dollars.  Will  that 
Value  of  any  other  dressing  add  as  much  to  the  amount  of  the  grass 
or  grain  crop  as  will  the  dressing  in  question  ?  This  must  be  deter- 
mined by  experiment.  English  farmers  are  making  extensive  appli- 
cation of  liquid  manures.  They  apply  them  largely  diluted,  and  the 
effects  may  be  due,  in  some  measure,  to  the  quantity  of  water  in 
■which  they  are  dissolved. 

Liquid  manures  may  be  applied  so  strong  as  to  injure  tender  plants. 
It  is  well  known  that  guano  applied  directly  to  tiie  germinating  seed, 
operates  as  a  caustic  upon  its  softened  substance,  and  entirely  pre- 
vents its  growth.  The  same  thing  is  true  of  ashes  and  lime  under 
certain  circumstances,  and  it  is  also  true  of  urine ;  for  when  this  is 
applied  in  large  quantity,  upon  young  and  tender  grass,  it  will  often 
kill  it  entirely.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the  English  mode  of  applica- 
tion is  much  the  safest,  but  in  order  to  attain  the  same  result,  the 
labor  is  much  increased  ;  and  we  are  hardly  prepared  to  believe  that 
the  fertilizing  power  is  increased  in  proportion  to  the  dilution,  as  is  said 
to  be  the  case  with  the  medicinal  power  of  homoeopathic  medicines. 
Within  certain  limits,  the  immediate  effects  of  fertilizers  may  be,  and 
doubtless  are  increased  by  dilution.  The  particles  of  soluble  bodies  are 
more  finely  subdivided,  and  are  more  readily  taken  up  by  the  radicles 
of  plants,  and  carried  into  the  circulation.  Indeed,  this  is  doubtless  the 
principal  reason  why  liquid  manures  are  more  immediately  active  than 
solid.  Water  must  always  be  present  to  render  manure  of  any  kind 
effective.  Potash,  lime,  soda  and  all  other  salts,  must  be  in  a  state  of 
solution,  before  they  can  be  absoi'bed  by  the  rootlets  of  plants.  Hor- 
ticulturists well  understand  that  all  such  substances  can  be  applied 
with  more  immediate  effect,  in  a  state  of  free  solution.  Such  sub- 
stances, applied  in  a  solid  form  to  the  soil,  in  a  season  of  drought, 
have  little  or  no  effect,  until  the  falling  rain  dissolves  them,  when  they 
will  sometimes  operate  with  almost  magical  effect.  Guano  applied  as 
a  top-dressing,  is  sometimes  almost  wholly  inoperative,  unless  the  ap- 
plication is  followed  by  rain.  Hence,  when  this  fertilizer  is  applied 
in  this  way,  it  should  be  applied  in  the  early  spring,  while  the  ground 
is  still  wet,  or  during  a  rain,  or  upon  an  April  snow,  in  order  that  it 
may  be  dissolved  and  carried  into  the  ground,  and  thus  be  protected 
from  the  atmosphere,  as  well  as  be  applied  to  the  roots  of  the  grass 
and  grain.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  lime  and  ashes  applied  in 
the  form  of  lime-water  and  weak  lye,  would  be  more  immediately  effi- 
cacious, than  when  applied  in  the  ordinary  Avay.  But  it  would  be 
attended  with  more  labor  and  expense.  How  far  this  mode  of  apply- 
ing manures  will  be  found  economical  in  this  State,  where  labor 
absorbs  so  large  a  part  of  the  working  capital  of  the  cultivator,  each 
must  judge  for  himself 


12 

Our  own  opinion  is,  that  with  the  exception  of  urine  from  the  stable 
and  the  house,  which  may  be  easily  saved,  and  which  is  apt  to  be  lost, 
in  great  measure  at  least,  by  any  other  mode  of  management,  the  ap- 
plication of  liquid  manures  will  be  confined  chiefly  to  the  garden. 
For  garden  uses,  soap-suds  and  the  sewage  of  the  house  is  usually 
sufficient  to  fertilize  a  garden  that  will  supply  the  family  with  vegeta- 
bles. All  the  liquids  from  the  house  should  be  conducted  to  a  reser- 
voir. A  garden-engine,  or  a  hand  water-cart,  with  a  few  feet  of  hose 
and  a  sprinkler  attached  to  it,  will  afford  all  the  machinery  needed. 
The  soil  may  be  well  sprinkled  before  the  seed  is  sown,  and  at  such 
times  subsequently,  during  the  growing  season,  as  may  be  convenient 
or  necessary.  A  little  practice  will  soon  teach  the  needful  skill  in 
the  application.  If  plaster  or  a  solution  of  sulphate  of  iron  is  occa- 
sionally added  to  the  reservoir,  it  will  both  act  as  a  deodorizer,  and 
add  to  the  efficacy  of  the  manure.  Much  excellent  manure  might  be 
prepared  in  this  way,  if  every  farmer,  and  every  family  cultivating  a 
garden,  would  take  the  pains  necessary  to  provide  a  suitable  reser- 
voir. The  material  that  now  runs  to  waste,  and  is,  for  the  most  part, 
a  nuisance  around  our  premises,  might  thus  be  made  to  add  no  incon- 
siderable amount  to  the  products  of  our  soil.  P'.very  family  in  a 
country  town  of  five  hundred  families,  might  save  manure  to  the 
amount  of  five  dollars  anmially.  This  Avould  amount  to  twenty-five 
hundred  dollars,  or  one  dollar  for  each  individual  in  town.  This 
would  be  sufficient  to  pay  the  highway  tax,  and  build  one  good  school- 
house  every  year  ;  or  it  would  pay  the  entire  school  tax  of  most  towns 
of  that  number  of  inhabitants.  This  amount  of  manure,  properly 
applied,  would  produce  five  thousand  bushels  of  corn  or  vegetables  of 
equal  value.  If  such  would  be  the  value  of  this  saving  to  a  single 
town  of  five  hundred  families,  the  value  to  the  whole  State  would  be 
a  very  large  sum. 

In  our  discussion  thus  far,  we  have  had  direct  reference  to  natural 
manures,  but  we  have  introduced  several  observations  relating  to  the 
composition  and  use  of  artificial  manures.  Most  of  these  manures,  as 
they  are  I'eceived  from  the  manufactories,  need  little  or  no  piepara- 
tion,  but  are  ready  to  be  applied  directly  to  the  soil,  or  to  be  compost- 
ed with  other  manures,  or  to  be  dissolved  fur  use  in  a  liquid  form.  It 
is  not  probable  that  they  can  be  economically  prepared,  except  upon 
a  large  scale,  at  establishments  erected  for  the  special  purpose,  and  by 
machinery  suited  to  the  manipulations  to  which  the  ingredients  are  to 
be  subjected.  Superphosphate  of  lime  consists  of  ground  bones,  sup- 
plied with  an  additional  dose  of  oxygen  by  means  of  sulphuric  acid 
and  water.  Blood  manures  consist  of  blood  and  aniuial  fibre  deodor- 
ized by  substances  capable  of  absorbing  their  nitrogen,  sul})huretted 
hydrogen  and  moisture.  Mui-iate  of  lime  is  either  the  waste  of  bleach- 
eries,  or  more  commonly,  burned  shells  or  quicklime  treated  with  sea 
water,  which  imparts  to  tlie  lime  its  salts,  and  a  certain  amount  of 
muriatic  acid,  liut  as  the  farmer  will  not  be  likely  to  undertake  the 
preparation  of  these  and  similar  manures  ui)on  his  own  premises,  it  is 
unnecessary  to  go  into  a  description  of  the  machinery  or  processes 
used  in  their  manufacture. 


13 


The  Application  of  Manures, 

We  have  already  said  so  much  upon  the  application  of  manures, 
while  treating  of"  their  preparation,  that  the  reader  will  very  naturally 
expect,  and  probably  hope  that  this  division  of  our  subject  will  be  very 
briefly  disponed  of.  But  before  giving  any  directions  respecting  the 
application  of  manures,  we  must  first  institute  an  inquiry  into  the 
effects  produced  by  manures  upon  growing  vegetables,  and  upon  the 
soil. 

"Were  the  theory  correct,  that  vegetables  derive  all  their  nutriment 
from  the  atmos[»here,  the  application  of  manures  to  the  soil  would  be 
of  no  advantage  to  them,  unless  it  were  to  stimulate  them  to  drink  up 
the  carbonic  acid  and  the  hydrogen,  and  in  some  cases  the  nitrogen  of 
the  atmosphere,  more  eagerly.  But  experience  everywhere  teaches 
us,  that  the  free  ap])lication  of  manures  causes  vegetables  to  grow 
with  much  more  vigor,  and  to  attain  a  much  more  peifect  develop- 
ment. The  obvious  inference  from  this  fact  is,  that  manures  furnish 
to  plants  the  elements  of  nutrition,  which  they  eagei'ly  devour,  and 
approp)'iate  to  their  growth.  We  know  that  in  animals  the  food  is 
received  into  the  stomach,  where  it  undergoes  a  sort  of  solution,  and 
is  then  carried  forward  into  the  intestines,  where  it  is  presented  to  the 
mouths  of  myriads  of  little  vessels,  which  drink  up  the  fluid  portion, 
and  convey  it  to  larger  vessels,  by  which  it  is  conveyed  to  the  heart. 
Then  by  the  heart,  it  is  sent  into  the  lungs,  where  it  is  acted  upon 
by  the  air,  in  the  lung-cells,  and  is  then  returned  to  the  heart,  and  by 
means  of  the  arteries,  sent  to  the  various  tissue-forming  vessels 
throughout  the  body.  The  blood  in  the  arteries  is  apparently  a 
homogeneous  fluid,  but  is  in  fact,  a  very  compound  fluid,  containing 
in  solution,  various  elements  that  previously  existed  in  the  food. 
The  tissue-forming  or  assimilating  vessels  are  endowed  with  the  won- 
derful power  of  selecting  from  the  compound  mass  presented  to  them, 
such  elements  as  they  need  for  their  respective  purposes,  and  of  re- 
jecting the  remainder.  From  the  materials  selected,  they  build  their 
several  structures,  and  repair  the  waste  that  is  constantly  going  on  in 
them.  Thus  one  set  of  vessels  forms  bone,  another  muscular  fibre, 
another  skin,  another  hair,  &;c.  Other  vessels  from  the  same  circu- 
lating fluid,  eliminate  the  various  fluids  contained  in  the  body,  as 
serum,  milk,  urine,  &c.  We  know  also  that  a  circulating  system  in 
many  respects  similar,  exists  in  vegetables,  and  that  fluids  drunk  in 
by  the  haii'-like  radicles  by  which  their  roots  are  covered,  are  convey- 
ed upward,  in  vessels  arranged  for  this  special  purpose,  and  that  Avhen 
they  have  passed  through  the  trunk,  they  are  distributed  to  the  leaves. 
The  fluid  passing  upward  from  the  spongioles  to  the  leaves,  is  called 
the  ascending  sap.  In  the  leaf,  the  sap  is  acted  upon  by  the  elements 
contained  in  the  atmosphere.  It  then  becomes  the  descending  sap, 
and  is  presented  to  the  various  tissue-forming  vessels  in  all  parts  of 
vegetables.  It  is  now  apparently  homogeneous,  but  in  truth  exceed- 
ingly compound,  containing  the  various  bodies  in  solution,  which  were 
drunk  up  by  the  radicles,  and  which  have  been  absorbed  from  the 
atmosphere,  by  the  leaves. 


14 

The  vessels  of  vegetables  have  the  same  wonderful,  and  seemingly 
intelligent  power  of  selection,  that  exists  in  the  vessels  of  animals. 
The}'  are  thus  enabled  to  select  from  the  compound  circulating  sap, 
what  each  set  of  vessels  requires,  to  construct  the  tissue  which  each 
has  in  charge.  One  set  selects  materials  for  the  alburnum,  another 
for  the  bark,  another  for  the  leaf  and  the  leaf-bud  ;  another  forms  the 
fruit-bud,  and  ultimately  builds  up  the  fruit.  One  set  constructs  the 
woody  fibre,  another  set  the  starch,  another  the  gum,  another  the 
resin,  another  the  bitter  principle,  another  the  sweet  and  nutritious 
juices,  another  the  poisonous  elements.  One  set  forms  from  the  sap, 
the  coloring  matter  that  blushes  or  glows  in  the  petals  of  the  flowers, 
and  the  coverings  of  the  fruit.  Another  selects,  atom  by  atom,  the 
lime  that  enters  into  the  composition  of  the  grain  of  wheat ;  another 
set  weaves  the  covering  for  this  same  grain,  from  the  woody  fibre. 
Another  set  deposits  the  fatty  elements,  and  arranges  them  in  layers, 
around  the  starch  and  sugar  and  lime,  of  which  the  kernel  of  corn  is 
built  up.  Thus  every  tissue  and  every  product  of  vegetable  life,  arc 
formed  by  innumerable  vessels,  from  the  descending  sap. 

This  sap  must  contain,  then,  all  the  elements  required  to  form  all 
the  various  vegetable  tissues,  and  for  their  rapid  and  perfect  develop- 
ment,— the  supply  must  be  abundant — must  be  in  due  proportion,  and 
must  be  furnished  at  the  time  when  it  is  required  by  the  formative 
vessels.  An  animal  fed  upon  sugar  alone  or  upon  starch  alone,  will 
soon  starve  and  die.  The  various  vessels  cannot  obtain  the  materials 
necessary  to  carry  on  their  work.  So  if  a  plant  is  furnished  with 
only  one  element  of  nutrition,  it  will  cease  to  thrive,  or  at  least,  only 
those  vessels  that  are  supplied  by  this  element,  will  carry  on  their 
proper  work.  For  example,  certain  vegetables  supplied  with  an 
abundance  of  nitrogenous  manure,  will  produce  an  exuberant  growth 
of  woody  fibre — of  stalk — of  leaf;  and  but  little  or  no  fruit  or  seed. 

We  are  now  prepared  to  understand  somewhat  more  clearly  the 
effects  of  manures  upon  vegetable  growth. 

And  first — manures  furnish  to  the  sap-vessels  the  various  elements 
which  they  need  for  the  construction  of  the  various  vegetable  tissues, 
in  such  a  state  of  minute  subdivision,  that  they  can  take  up  atom  by 
atom,  what  each  requires.  All  the  elements  existing  in  the  soil,  fur- 
nish their  respective  quotas  to  the  compound  substance  constituting 
the  sap.  Some  of  these  elements  are  capable  of  solution  in  the  water 
in  the  soil.  Others  are  incapable  of  direct  solution,  and  without  the 
presence  of  some  other  element  capable  of  either  acting  upon  them, 
and  thus  rendering  them  soluble,  or  of  combining  with  the  solvent, 
and  imparting  to  it  a  higher  power  of  solution,  they  would  remain 
inert  in  the  soil.  Thus  silex  is  insoluble  in  simple  water,  but  the 
presence  of  lime  or  potash  in  the  solvent,  gives  rise  to  a  new  action, 
and  silicate  of  lime  or  potash  is  formed,  which  is  soluble,  and  thus 
becomes  an  ingredient  in  the  sap.  Silex  is  an  important  constituent 
in  the  epidermis  of  several  of  the  grasses,  and  of  the  straw  of  grain, 
and  the  stalk  of  corn.  When  such  plants  do  not  contain  a  suflicient 
supply  of  silex  in  their  outer  coats,  they  break  down  under  their  own 
weight,  and  lodge  on  the  ground,  before  they  have  attained  their  full 


15 

growth.  This  we  often  witness  in  clover  and  herds-grass,  and  oats, 
upon  reclaimed  meadows  and  swamps.  In  such  cases,  a  top-dressing 
of"  sand  or  gravel  will  impart  to  the  growing  stalk,  the  next  season, 
sufficient  hardness  to  enable  it  to  stand  erect,  until  its  growth  is  com- 
pleted. In  such  cases,  even  if  lime  and  potash  are  not  directly  essen- 
tial to  the  growth  of  plants,  they  contribute  indirectly  an  important 
service.  This  instance  affords  a  beautiful  illustration  of  the  chemical 
action  that  is  constantly  going  on  in  the  soil. 

Different  soils  require  different  treatment.  Clay  soils  should  be 
treated  witii  lime,  ashes,  and  light  composts ;  such  as  contain  straw 
and  partially  decomposed  vegetable  matters,  keep  such  soils  light,  and 
furnish,  by  their  decomposition,  the  humus  in  which  they  are  deficient. 
Black,  moist  soils,  that  have  been  long  cultivated,  are  generally  ex- 
hausted of  the  lime  and  silex  needed  for  grass  and  grain  crops. 
Hence  compost  containing  sand  is  especially  useful  on  such  soils. 
Lime  may  be  applied  freely  upon  the  surface  of  such  soils,  in  the 
form  of  slaked  lime,  plaster,  or  superphosphate,  with  advantage.  On 
light,  sandy  soils,  well  woi'ked  composts,  rendered  as  fine  as  possible, 
and  containing  a  large  proportion  of  muck  or  other  carbonaceous  sub- 
stances, and  animal  manures,  of  all  sorts,  are  peculiarly  appropriate. 
The  influence  of  animal  manures  upon  sandy  soils,  is  well  illustrated 
by  the  growth  of  corn  and  melons  upon  the  sands  of  Cape  Cod,  by 
means  of  fish  offal,  and  prepared  fish  manures.  Such  soils  are  hun- 
gry for  the  elements  which  these  manures  contain.  Whatever  ma- 
nures are  applied  to  such  soils,  should  be  well  mixed  with  the  soil, 
and  well  covered  in. 

Should  manures  be  deeply  covered  in  the  soil,  or  should  they  be 
applied  near  the  surface,  are  questions  about  which  cultivators  differ. 
The  depth  to  which  manures  should  be  covered,  will  depend  upon 
three  circumstances,  the  nature  of  the  soil,  the  kind  of  manure,  and 
the  kind  of  crop.  All  manures  should  be  placed  at  a  sufficient  depth 
in  the  soil  to  keep  them  moist,  or  they  will  be  inactive.  When  a  soil 
is  naturally  moist  and  heavy,  it  is  not  necessary  to  bury  manure  as 
deep,  to  insure  its  being  kept  in  a  moist  state,  as  when  it  is  light  and 
dry.  Manures  containing  a  large  proportion  of  volatile  elements, 
should  be  buried  deeply.  These  elements,  when  the  soil  becomes 
warm,  assume  the  gaseous  form,  and  tend  to  rise  to  the  surface,  and 
will  be  diffused  through  the  soil  lying  over  them,  and,  if  there  are  ele- 
ments in  the  soil  having  an  affinity  for  them,  will  be  retained. 
Other  elements,  which  are  not  volatile,  as  lime,  ashes,  salt,  &;c.,  but 
which  are  soluble  in  water,  may  be  safely  applied  on  or  near  the  sur- 
face, and  will  be  dissolved  by  the  rain,  and  carried  into  the  soil. 
Some  vegetables  strike  their  roots  deeply  into  the  soil,  and  for  their 
perfect  development  require  a  deep  tilth.  In  such  instances,  trench- 
ing is  peculiarly  advantageous.  For  such  crops,  manures  should  be 
worked  as  deeply  as  possible.  In  preparing  a  garden  soil,  it  is  good 
practice,  to  spread  on  the  surface  a  coating  of  manure,  and  plough  it 
in  deeply,  and  then  to  add  a  dressing  of  line  compost  or  liquid  manure, 
and  work  it  in  with  the  harrow  or  rake  ;  thus  the  plant  will  find 
nutriment  at  every  stage  of  its  growth.  For  potatoes,  it  is  not  neces- 
sary to  bury  the  manure   so  deeply,  as  they  grow  near  the  surface. 


16 

The  same  is  true  of  the  flat  turnip.  The  question  has  been  often 
asked,  how  can  manure  be  best  applied  for  the  coi-n  crop  ; — shall  it  all 
be  put  upon  the  soil  before  ploughing,  and  be  ploughed  in  deeply,  or 
shall  a  portion  of  it  be  applied  in  the  hill,  or  near  the  surface? 
"When  corn  is  to  be  grown  on  newly  turned  grass  land,  shall  the 
manure  be  spread  upon  the  grass,  and  turned  under  the  sod  ?  This 
is  certainly  the  easiest  way  of  applying  it,  and  many  contend  that 
when  it  is  applied  in  this  way,  although  the  corn  may  not  be  as  vig- 
orous in  the  early  part  of  the  season,  yet  in  the  latter  part,  when  the 
roots  have  struck  through  the  rotting  sod,  and  found  the  manure  de- 
posited beneath,  it  will  grow  with  sufficient  vigor  to  make  up  for  the 
time  lost  in  the  early  part  of  the  season.  Others  contend  that  it  is 
better  to  turn  over  the  soil  in  the  autumn,  and  in  the  spring  work  in 
the  manure  upon  the  surface  of  the  furrows,  Avith  the  harrow  or  culti- 
vator. In  this  way,  it  is  said  the  corn  will  get  a  vigorous  start  in  the 
early  season,  and  when  its  roots  strike  into  the  mellow  sod,  they  Avill 
find  nouiishment  sufficient  to  sustain  their  growth. 

In  answer  to  both  these  positions,  we  reply,  that  the  largest  growth 
of  corn  that  we  have  ever  seen,  was  produced  by  a  combination  of  the 
two  methods.  Two-thirds  of  the  manure,  say  sixteen  loads  to  the 
acre,  were  spread  upon  the  sward,  in  the  Sjjring.  This  was  then 
turned  over  to  a  good  depth.  The  harrow  was  vigorously  applied, 
and  after  this,  furrows  were  made  for  the  rows  with  a  light  plough. 
Then  the  other  third,  say  eight  loads,  was  put  into  the  furrows  and 
the  kernels  dropped  ten  inches  apart.  This  gave  the  corn  an  early 
start,  and  it  grew  vigorously  from  the  commencement,  and  its  roots 
soon  found  the  lich  nutriment  deposited  below  the  sod.  The  crop  in 
this  case  was  one  hundred  and  four  bushels  to  the  acre. 

Practical  men  difler  about  the  proper  mode  of  applying  manures  in 
the  culture  of  corn.  As  the  corn  crop  is  perhaps  the  most  important 
crop  to  the  country — is  in  fact  the  national  crop,  this  is  a  subject  of 
great  importance.  But  it  is  questionable  whetiier  any  rule  of  uni- 
versal a[)plication  can  be  given.  We  think  that  different  soils  mjiy 
require  different  methods  of  application. 

In  a  clayey,  heavy  soil,  it  is  imi)ortant  that  the  management  should 
be  such  as  to  render  the  whole  soil  warm  and  light.  To  accomplish 
this  end,  a  large  portion  of  the  manure  should  be  incorporated  with 
the  soil  by  the  plough.  We  think  green  manures  on  soils  of  this 
description  should  be  used  for  this  purpose.  But  as  this  soil,  unless 
underdrained,  is  cold,  and  does  not  set  the  crop  forward  eai-ly,  some- 
thing more  is  needed.  A  small  quantity  of  well  com})Osted  manure 
in  the  hill,  meets  this  deficiency.  This  process  is  attended  with  labor 
and  expense,  but  we  think  these  are  fully  repaid  by  the  result. 
Indeed  in  such  soils,  without  the  use  of  such  means,  the  crop  is  un- 
certain unless  the  season  is  iavorable.  In  light,  warm  soils,  the  whole 
of  the  manure  may  be  worked  into  the  soil  with  safety,  and  perhaps 
with  more  advantage  to  the  soil,  if  the  object  is  to  prepare  it  for  fu- 
ture crops.  In  any  soil,  if  the  chief  purpose  is  to  improve  it,  and 
prepare  it  for  grass,  grain  or  other  crops,  as  speedily  as  possible,  and 
the  corn  crop  is  a  secondary  object,  the  whole  amount  of  barn  manure 
should  be  thoroughly  incorporated  with  the  soil,  and  a  little  guano  or 


17 

other  nitrogenous  manure  put  into  the  hill,  to  serve  as  a  stimuhis  to 
the  corn  crop.  In  this  w:iy,  when  tlic  soil  is  cold  and  tenacious,  a 
good  corn  crop  may  be  secured,  and  the  soil  i-apidiy  prepared  for 
future  use.  The  stimulant  will  be  expended  on  the  corn  crop,  and 
will  contribute  little  or  nothing  to  the  permanent  improvement  of  the 
land.  For  this  we  must  depend  wholly,  so  far  as  manures  are  con- 
cerned, upon  the  stable  and  compost  manures.  But  we  think  the 
corn  crop  is  of  sufficient  importance  to  be  considered  a  primary  crop, 
and  that  the  mode  of  applying  the  manure  in  all  cases,  should  be 
such  as  to  insure  a  good  crop,  while  at  the  same  time  the  permanent 
improvement  of  the  soil  is  secured.  These  objects  are  by  no  means 
incompatible,  and  may  both  be  attained  at  the  same  time,  and  by  the 
same  process.  In  the  culture  of  corn,  manures  should  be  liberally 
applied.  There  is  less  labor  and  less  expense  in  raising  sixty  bushels 
of  corn  on  one  acre  than  on  two,  and  in  the  former  case  the  land  will 
be  leit  in  a  better  condition  than  in  the  latter. 

One  great  necessity  for  applying  manui-e  in  our  climate,  is,  that 
plants  may  be  forced  more  rapidly  through  all  the  stages  of  their 
growth,  since  if  left  to  themselves,  the  season  would  not  be  long 
enough  to  bring  them  to  perfection  ;  and  that  system  of  culture  which 
pushes  them  forward  early,  that  they  may  get  well  rooted,  and  there- 
ibi'e  be  the  better  able  to  endure  the  droughts  of  July  and  August, 
and  thus  arrive  at  early  maturity,  before  the  frosts  of  September,  we 
think  must  be  the  best  system.  Could  we  add  another  month  to  the 
summer  of  our  climate,  we  could  cultivate  many  crops,  with  a  much 
less  amount  of  stimulants  than  we  require  at  present.  Now  we  have 
to  guard  against  the  di'oughts  of  summer,  and  the  early  frosts  of 
autumn,  and  1  do  not  esteem  it  safe  practice,  to  deposit  the  manure 
for  the  corn  so  deep  in  the  soil  that  the  growing  crops  cannot  reach 
it  till  late  in  the  season.  AVhen  stable  manure  or  compost  is  ploughed 
in  deep,  Ave  would  recommend  the  application  of  well  diluted  guano 
ashes  or  fine  compost  in  the  hill.  In  this  way,  with  a  season  at  all 
favorable,  the  crop  will  rarely  fail. 

As  a  general  rule,  we  would  say  that  all  compost  should  be  well 
worked  over  in  the  early  spring,  before  the  weather  becomes  suffi- 
ciently warm  to  occasion  a  rapid  development  of  the  gases,  and  ren- 
dered as  fine  as  possible.  If  the  heap  is  too  wet  to  work  fine,  a  suffi- 
cient quantity  of  dry  soil,  or  peat,  or  charcoal  pulverized,  or  plaster 
should  be  added,  to  absorb  the  moistui-e  and  destroy  the  tenacity  of 
the  mass.  All  manures  should  be  applied  in  as  fine  a  state  as  is 
possible,  without  too  much  exposure  to  the  action  of  the  atmosphere. 
If  manures  are  reduced  in  cool  weather,  when  they  are  not  in  a  state 
of  active  fermentation,  it  may  be  done  without  great  loss  of  their 
gases.  All  manures  that  are  to  be  applied  to  the  surface  should  be 
pulverized  as  finely  as  possible.  Some  plants  spread  their  roots  near 
the  surface,  as  the  strawberry,  and  the  whole  family  of  the  cucurbit- 
acea.  These  especially  require  finely  i-educed  manure.  When  ma- 
nures are  to  be  buried  deeply  in  the  soil,  this  mode  of  preparation  is 
less  absolutely  necessary.  All  manures,  whether  applied  in  a  coarse 
or  fine  state,  should  be  immediately  covered  under  the  soil,  that  as 
much  as  possible  of  their  volatile  elements  may  be  absorbed  by  the 


18 

soil.  These  elements,  as  we  have  already  said,  permeate  the  soil,  and 
divide  its  particles,  and  render  them  light  and  easily  traversed  by  the 
delicate  rootlets.  This  mechanical  effect  is  one  of"  no  small  import- 
ance. A  soil  rendered  light  and  porous  by  fermenting  manure,  is  as 
much  better  for  the  operation,  as  bread  risen  by  yeast  is  better  than  a 
mass  of  dough. 

It  is  the  general  practice  of  our  cultivators  to  apply  manures  but 
once  in  the  season.  But  certain  manures  may  be  applied  more  than 
once,  with  much  profit,  provided  they  are  applied  during  the  growing 
stage  of  the  plants,  and  in  such  a  form,  as  to  mingle  at  once  with  the 
soil,  and  become  a  constituent  part  of  it.  It  must  be  either  finely 
pulverized  or  in  a  liquid  state.  In  either  form  it  should  be  immedi- 
ately worked  into  the  soil  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  plants,  with 
the  rake  or  hoe.  Many  plants,  including  most  of  the  smaller  fruits, 
may  be  treated  in  this  way,  with  good  results.  "We  have  already 
seen  that  manures  may  be  applied  several  times  during  the  season  to 
grasses,  thus  enabling  us  to  take  two  or  three  crops  or  cuttings  in  a 
yeai*.  This  is  of  great  value  in  soiling  cattle,  as  it  enables  us  to  sup- 
ply them  with  green  and  succulent  food  during  the  entire  summer 
and  autumn  from  the  same  ground. 

Did  we  understand  more  perfectly  the  chemical  constitution  of  all 
the  plants  which  we  cultivate,  we  might  doubtless,  in  many  cases, 
supply  to  the  soil  the  elements  especially  needed  by  the  plants.  But 
we  do  not  anticipate  any  very  important  results  from  the  doctrine  of 
specific  manures,  considered  by  itself  Grapes  appropriate  a  large 
amount  of  lime  and  potash.  Asparagus,  a  marine  plant  originally, 
appropriates  marine  salts.  But  we  cannot  depend  upon  lime  and 
potash  to  give  us  luxuriant  grapes,  nor  upon  marine  salts  alone  for 
large  and  succulent  asparagus.  They  both  require  in  addition  to 
these  substances,  a  generous  supply  of  the  same  elements  of  nutrition 
that  other  plants  require.  Onr  discussion  has  already  prolonged 
itself  much  beyond  our  expectation,  and  we  will  not  go  into  the  sub- 
ject of  the  application  of  this  class  of  manures ;  and  will  merely 
remark  that  the  subject  is  but  imperfectly  understood,  and  that  much 
experimental  research  is  needed  to  guide  us  in  their  application,  to 
any  certain  results. 

Nature  works  out  from  a  few  simple  elements  variously  combined, 
the  wonderful  variety  of  products  exhibited  by  vegetable  life.  If  left 
to  herself,  she  always  obtains  a  supply  of  these  elements.  But  when 
disturbed  in  her  operation?  by  short-sighted  man,  who  removes  from 
the  soil  its  productions  for  his  own  use,  instead  of  leaving  them  to 
decay  where  they  grow,  the  soil  becomes  exhausted  of  necessary 
elements,  and  unless  they  are  returned  to  it  in  the  form  of  manures, 
she  soon  becomes  unable  to  complete  the  processes  which  she  com- 
mences, for  want  of  material.  The  plant  is  not  perfect.  Its  frame- 
work is  not  fully  developed,  or  its  seed  does  not  reach  a  perfect  form, 
or  does  not  arrive  at  maturity.  The  crop  becomes  annually  smaller, 
because  the  needful  elements  are  annually  diminishing.  In  the  older 
Western  States,  we  are  told  that  the  wheat  crops  have  diminished 
from  one-fourth  to  one-third  in  quantity,  per  acre  ;  and  unless  the 
elements  that  have  been  removed  from  the  soil,  are  returned  to  it,  the 


19 

crop  will  contihue  to  diminish  in  a  still  more  rapid  ratio,  until  it 
ceases  to  be  a  remunerative  crop.  In  Eastern  Virginia  and  Mary- 
land the  soils  that  formerly  yielded  thirty  bushels  of  wheat  now  yield 
five  or  six,  and  are  being  deserted  because  their  prodeCe  will  not  sus- 
tain their  cultivators.  Guano  has  been  applied  to  such  soils.  The 
nitrogen  and  phosphates  and  alkalies  which  it  contains,  render  solu- 
ble certain  elements  still  found  in  the  soil;  and  one  or  two  crops  of 
ten  or  twelve  bushels,  have  been  taken  from  the  soil.  But  this  pro- 
cess will  soon  cease,  and  the  soil  be  left  more  perfectly  exhausted 
than  before.  Portions  of  this  soil  are  being  treated  in  a  different 
way,  by  cultivators  of  market  vegetables,  who  are  applying  muck, 
stable  manure,  lime,  leached  ashes,  green  crops,  and  whatever  will 
restore  to  the  soil,  in  the  most  permanent  form,  the  elements  required 
by  such  vegetables. 

Hundreds  of  acres  may  now  be  found  covered  with  thrifty  crops  of 
strawberries,  gooseberries,  currants,  celery,  radishes,  turnips,  beets, 
onions,  melons,  and  similar  crops,  Avhich  a  few  years  ago  did  not  repay 
the  labor  of  cultivation.  The  favorable  climate  and  the  convenient 
market  I'ender  such  cultivation  highly  remunerative.  The  neighbor- 
ing cities  furnish  the  means  of  restoring  to  the  soil  the  elements  need- 
ed to  sustain  the  large  draught  made  upon  it.  The  outlay  for  manures 
in  this  case  is  large,  and  for  grain  culture  probably  would  not  pay. 
But  it  shows  in  a  striking  manner  what  manures  may  accomplish. 
There  is  a  vast  amount  of  manurial  substance  produced  in  all  cities, 
the  largest  part  of  which  is  annually  wasted.  If  it  could  be  carefully 
collected  and  judiciously  applied  to  the  soils  in  their  vicinity,  it  would 
wonderfully  increase  their  productiveness.  But  the  transportation  of 
manures  to  the  soil  to  be  cultivated,  is  an  expensive  operation,  and 
will  prove  economical  only  within  certain  limits  and  for  certain  pur- 
poses. The  true  system  of  farming  in  this  State  is  undoubtedly  to 
consume  upon  the  farm  so  much  vegetable  matter,  that  the  solid  and 
liquid  animal  excrement  resulting,  applied  either  simple  or  composted 
with  other  suitable  matei'ials,  shall  enable  the  farmer  steadily  to  in- 
crease his  crops,  while  at  the  same  time,  his  soil  shall  be  as  steadily 
growing  richer,  and  more  productive.  Every  acre  cultivated,  should 
be  left  in  better  condition  after  the  crop  is  taken  off,  than  it  was  when 
it  was  put  on.  To  attain  this  point,  no  more  land  should  be  culti- 
vated, than  can  be  done  without  exhausting  it.  The  good  teamster 
will  keep  his  horses  or  oxen  at  work  steadily,  without  diminishing 
their  flesh  or  strength.  Every  one  who  has  had  experience  will 
affirm  that  it  is  the  most  jjrofitable  to  keep  his  team  in  high  condition. 
The  same  thing  is  true  of  the  soil.  If  the  good  teamster  has  food  for 
only  two  horses,  he  will  not  attempt  to  keep  three.  So  the  judicious 
farmer  will  cultivate  no  more  acres  than  he  can  feed  well.  In  most 
instances  it  is  better  and  more  profitable,  and  attended  with  less  labor, 
to  raise  sixty  bushels  of  corn  on  one  acre,  than  on  two.  The  soil  in 
the  former  acre  is  left  in  a  better  condition,  and  in  a  better  state  for 
any  succeeding  crop  than  in  the  latter. 

We  think  that  in  general,  the  farmers  in  this  State  must  rely  upon 
their  own  farms,  for  their  permanent  supply  of  manures.  Imported 
manures  and  artificial  manures  may  occasionally  be  resorted  to,  as 


temporary  expedients.  But  unless  the  produce  can  be  sold  at  a  near 
market  and  a  liigh  price,  their  u<e  will  not  be  found  economical  in  the 
long  run.  But  although  Ave  think  every  farmer  should  rely  upon  his 
own  farm,  he  may  with  propriety  avail  himself  of  such  natural 
sources  of  supply  as  his  own  neighborhood  affords.  The  cultivator 
upon  the  sea-shore  may  and  ought  to  use  (he  substances  thrown  ;\t  his 
feet  by  the  waves.  P^ish  and  fish  offal  are  a  resource  of  great  value 
to  those  within  its  reach.  If  combined  with  peat  as  a  deodorizer, 
during  the  process  of  putrefaction,  it  may  be  used  without  incon- 
venience. Marl  beds  are  so  many  mines  of  wealth  to  ciiltivalors  in 
their  neighborhood.  In  the  vicinity  of  soap  works,  every  one  will  be 
eager  to  avail  himself  of  the  leached  ashes.  The  woolen  factory 
aflbrds  wool  waste,  an  article  of  great  value  as  a  fertilizer.  A'^arious 
manufacturing  establishments,  as  glue-making,  tanning,  gas-making, 
&c.,  furnish  waste  material  that  may  be  obtained  by  farmers  in  their 
vicinity,  at  a  remunerative  price.  Every  opportunity  to  obtain  these 
and  similar  materials,  to  add  to  the  manure  prepared  in  his  own 
laboratory,  will  be  improved  by  the  enterprising  farmer. 

There  is  one  other  means  of  reclaiming  and  fertilizing  an  exhausted 
soil,  to  which  we  have  barely  alluded,  which  we  think  is  worth}'  of  more 
attention  than  it  has  of  late  received,  especially  upon  light  sandy  soils, 
at  a  distance  from  the  farm,  or  from  extra  sources  of  supply,  we  mean 
the  ploughing  in  of  green  crops.  The  best  crojis  ibr  this  purpose  are 
clover  and  buckwheat.  Let  the  soil  be  ploughed  five  or  six  inches 
deep,  and  seeded  with  buckwheat,  early  in  the  season  ;  and  in  July,  or 
as  soon  as  it  is  in  full  blossom,  let  it  be  turned  in,  seven  inches,  and 
immediately  seeded  again,  and  it  will  give  a  second  crop  which  may 
be  ploughed  in,  in  September.  Let  this  be  turned  in,  and  clover  sowed 
and  harrowed  in,  and  the  next  season  this  will  afford  a  good  dressing, 
which  will  prei)are  the  soil  for  a  crop  of  rye,  which  should  be  sowed 
in  the  latter  part  of  August,  or  early  in  September.  If  grass  seed  is 
sowed  with  the  rye,  lands  thus  treated  will  yield  good  pasturage,  for 
three  or  four  years,  alter  the  crop  of  rye  is  taken  off,  when  the  same 
process  may  be  repeated.  This  process  has  been  found  an  effectual 
means  of  restoring  exhausted  pine  lands,  and  in  cases  where  it  is  not 
preferred  to  renew  the  growth  of  wood,  may  be  resorted  to  with 
economy  and  success. 

We  have  now  spoken  of  the  principles  which  should  guide  us  in  the 
preparation  and  application  of  manures.  We  have  also  spoken  of  the 
elements  which  enter  into  the  composition  of  the  principal  manures 
found  in  use  in  our  State.  The  quantities  of  the  several  kinds  which 
may  be  most  profitably  applied,  must  depend  upon  the  circumstances 
of  each  case.  These  circumstances  include  the  nature  and  conditioa 
of  the  soil,  the  kind  of  crop,  and  the  character  of  the  manure.  When 
manures  are  carbonaceous  and  not  volatile,  they  may  be  applied  in 
large  quantities  at  a  time,  and  their  effects  will  be  permanent.  When 
manures  consist  largely  of  volatile  elements,  it  is  a  better  rule  to 
apply  annually  or  oftener,  in  such  quantities  as  are  needed  for  imme- 
diate effect.  Such  manures  cannot  be  depended  upon  for  the  perma- 
nent improvement  of  the  soil,  for  their  active  properties  are  soon 
converted  into  gases,  and  lost.     Their  power  is  expended  in  the 


21 

growth  of  the  present  crop.  Hence  they  should  be  applied  only  with 
reference  to  this  crop,  and  in  sucli  quantities  as  its  wants  require. 
Tiie  quantity  of  any  kind  of  manure  must  be  determined  by  observa- 
tion and  experience.  The  judgment  and  skill  of  tiie  farmer  arc  to  be 
his  guides  in  this  matter.  There  has  been  undoubtedly  a  disposition 
to  cultivate  too  much  land, — to  spread  our  manures  over  too  large  a 
surface.  When  tlie  soil  was  new,  this  answered  tolerably  well,  and 
good  crops  were  obtained  for  a  time  ;  but  many  of  our  farms  have  in 
this  way  become  exhausted.  As  the  soil  becomes  exhausted,  by 
repeated  cropping,  of  the  fertilizing  elements  which  had  been  stored 
up  in  it,  the  injurious  effect  of  this  treatment  becomes  more  and  more 
apparent.  Men  are  slow  to  renounce  the  usages  that  were  estab- 
lished in  former  times,  and  under  different  circumstances.  They 
hesitate  to  give  up  allegiance  to  custom,  in  agriculture,  as  in  other 
things,  and  pursue  practices  of  ruinous  tendency  merely  because  they 
are  sanctioned  by  authority.  Needed  reformations  are  seldom  inau- 
gurated until  they  are  compelled  by  necessity.  But  many  of  our  most 
iutelligent  cultivators  have  commenced  the  work  of  reform,  and  when 
w^e  shall  all,  in  every  part  of  the  State,  so  cultivate  our  lands  that 
they  shall  become  more  fertile  and  more  productive  after  every  suc- 
cessive crop,  we  shall  have  learned  the  only  true  and  economical 
method  of  applying  manures. 


NO.  5.        ~\ 
_NEW  SEKIES.J 


PRIZE   ESSAY 


AGEICULTURAL 


EDUCATION. 


BY 

WILSON  FLAGG, 

OF  ANDOVER,  MASS. 


BOSTON: 

1858. 

J.  H.   EASTBURN'S    PRESS. 


E  S  S  A  Y. 


^'-The  most  useful  system  of  agricultural  instruction,  by  lohich  to  ac- 
quire a  practical  agricultural  education,  stick  us  would  jit  a  young 
man  to  commence  the  business  of  a  farmer,  upon  the  average  of 
farming  lands  in  Massachusetts." 

It  Avill  be  assumed,  at  the  commencement  of  this  essay,  that  it  is 
desirable  that  the  farmers  of  Massachusetts  should  continue,  as  they 
ai-e  now,  a  class  of  independent  working-men,  and  proprietors  of  the 
lands  they  occupy  and  cultivate.  If  we  look  about  the  country,  we 
find  individuals  who  own  from  one  hundred  to  three  hundred  acres  of 
land,  who  are  industrious  and  able-bodied  men,  and  intelligent  citi- 
zens. They  are  capable  town  officers  and  good  public  servants  in  a 
variety  of  civil  capacities.  They  are,  also,  proficient  in  practical 
agriculture,  and  are  liberal  and  progressive  in  their  ideas  of  their 
own  business.  Such  men  represent  the  standard  to  which  we  ought 
to  strive  to  elevate  the  whole  class  of  farm-proprietors.  They  should 
possess  skill,  hardihood  and  industry,  because  on  these  qualities  de- 
pends their  thrift ;  they  should  be  well  educated  and  intelligent,  or 
they  cannot  preserve  their  independence. 

There  is  no  object,  therefore,  more  deserving  the  attention  of  those 
Avho  are  directly,  or  indirectly,  the  guardians  of  the  pubHc  interest, 
than  the  education  of  young  men  who  are  engaged  in  the  pursuits  of 
agriculture.  At  the  outset,  however,  we  are  met  by  the  objection, 
that  the  surest  means  of  causing  a  young  man  to  quit  his  paternal 
acres  and  enter  into  other  business,  is  to  give  him  a  superior  educa- 
tion. This  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  proof  that  knowledge  gives  one 
a  distaste  for  rural  occupations,  but  rather,  that  it  affords  him  the  ca- 
pacity to  earn  a  livelihood  in  an  easier  and  more  eligible  way.  A 
farmer's  employments  are  laborious,  comparatively  unsocial  and  un- 
stimulating  to  the  ambition,  and  they  do  not  lead  rapidly  to  wealth. 
If,  therefore,  the  son  of  a  farmer  has  received  a  better  education  than 
the  generality  of  his  fellow-citizens,  he  leaves  the  farm,  not  always 
from  a  dislike  to  it,  but,  because  he  can  more  easily  obtain  wealth  by 
the  exercise  of  his  wits,  and  by  the  use  of  his  acquisitions,  than  by 
woi'king  in  the  field. 

Men  will  not  voluntarily  pursue  a  laborious  occupation,  if  their 
education  and  habits  have  fitted  them  for  an  intellectual  or  sedentary 
one  which  is  attainable.  Hence,  if  we  qualify  those  young  men  who 
are  to  be  devoted  to  agriculture,  by  a  superior  education,  to  earn  an 
easy  livelihood  in  some  more  eligible  pursuit,  we  do  that  which  will 
entice  them  away  from  the  farm.  Their  attainments  flatter  them 
with  at  least  the  hope  of  success  in  other  departments  of  business, 
and  they  will  be  led  by  this  illusion  to  neglect,  if  not  to  leave  their 


early  chosen  pursuit.  But  we  are  not  to  conclude  from  these  cir- 
cumstances, that  this  class  of  young  men  must  be  kept  in  ignorance ; 
we  are  rather  to  infer  that  their  education  and  discipline  should  be 
peculiar.  Our  present  object,  therefore,  is  to  consider  the  means  that 
could  be  most  advantageously  used  for  instructing  young  men  in  the 
science  and  practice  of  agriculture,  without  lessening  their  attachment 
to  the  occupations  of  the  farm,  or  creating  inducements  for  seeking 
their  fortune  in  other  ways. 

In  order  to  train  young  men  to  be  good  and  persistent  farmers,  they 
must  be  better  qualified  to  succeed  in  farming  than  in  any  other  busi- 
ness ;  but  we  can  only  approximate  towards  any  system  of  education 
devised  for  this  purpose,  and  the  greater  number  of  its  appliances 
must  be  indirect.  If  we  cannot  create  agricultural  schools  and  col- 
leges ;  if  we  cannot,  except  to  a  very  limited  extent,  furnish  direct 
instruction  to  the  youth  of  the  rural  classes  —  we  may,  nevertheless, 
supply  them  with  new  motives  to  make  use  of  the  opportunities  they 
possess  for  acquiring  knowledge  ;  we  may  inspire  them  with  ambition 
to  be  skilful  farmers,  by  making  the  farm  their  pride ;  we  may  induce 
them  to  put  foi'th  more  energy  in  their  occupation,  by  showing  them 
how  it  may  be  made  more  profitable.  Every  young  man  is  seized 
with  a  passion  to  become  proficient  in  his  business,  as  soon  as  he  dis- 
covers that  by  skilful  practice  it  may  be  made  a  source  of  wealth ; 
while  on  the  other  hand,  he  cares  not  to  learn  or  to  pursue  an  em- 
ployment which  cannot  afford  him  the  gratification  of  his  wishes. 

It  should  be  premised,  if,  indeed,  it  be  not  too  obvious  a  principle 
to  be  mentioned,  that  the  grand  motive  to  follow  any  pursuit  that  re- 
quires patient  labor  and  industry,  while  it  holds  out  no  tempting  prizes 
to  the  ambition,  is  necessity.  One  obstacle  to  the  improvement  of 
agriculture  in  this  country  is  undoubtedly  the  absence  of  an  absolute 
necessity,  on  the  part  of  any  class  of  our  inhabitants,  to  devote  them- 
selves pei'manently  to  farming.  Neither  has  there  existed  an  actual 
necessity  for  the  exercise  of  a  great  deal  of  practical  knowledge,  or 
skill,  in  the  occupation.  When  a  farm  has  been  exhausted  of  its  fer- 
tility, the  owner  has  perceived  that  it  would  be  more  profitable  to 
sell  the  old  farm  and  buy  one  that  is  new  and  unimpaired,  than  to 
endeavor  to  improve,  or  regenerate,  the  old  one.  The  art  of  farming 
in  America  has  been,  to  a  great  extent,  that  of  buying  and  clearing 
new  lands,  and  using  the  natural  productiveness  of  the  soil  to  the  best 
advantage  for  the  present  time. 

As  population  increases,  and  as  the  wild  lands  become  exhausted, 
there  will  arise  a  necessity  for  the  art  of  regenerating  old  farms  and 
worn-out  soils,  instead  of  making  the  best  present  use  of  new  and 
productive  lands.  This  necessity  has  in  a  considerable  degree  already 
come  upon  the  inhabitants  of  the  Eastern  States.  But  there  are  still 
so  many  avenues  of  employment  open  to  young  men,  presenting 
them  superior  or  more  tempting  inducements  than  the  humble  prizes 
which  are  offered  by  farming,  that  the  growth  of  a  strictly  agricultu- 
ral class  must  for  many  years  be  moderate.  A  young  man  will  not 
consent  to  build  stone  wall  or  hoe  corn  in  one  field,  while  an  adjoining 
one  offers  him  an  opportunity  of  digging  for  gold.  The  prosperity  of 
agriculture  would  soon  follow  the  concurrence  of  such  circumstances 


as  Avould  render  (he  business  a  matter  of  choice  to  those  who  were 
bred  to  it.  By  this  we  mean  a  state  of  things  that  should  make  it 
apparent  to  every  intelhgent  young  man  wlio  has  learned  farming, 
that  he  could  not  choose  a  wiser  course  for  his  own  interest  and  hap- 
piness, than  to  devote  himself  entirely  to  this  pursuit. 

It  is  wise,  howevei",  to  anticipate  this  period,  and  while  millions  of 
acres  in  the  State  are  lying  unimproved,  to  take  such  steps  and  use 
such  measures  as  shall  induce  a  sutlicient  proportion  of  our  youth  to 
become  good  practical  farmers,  instead  of  seeking  their  fortune  in  the 
whirlpool  of  trade  and  manufactures.  For  the  furtherance  of  this 
end,  the  most  important  requisite  is  to  afford  the  younger  portion  of 
the  rural  classes  such  an  education  as  shall  so  admii-ably  tit  them  for 
agriculture,  that  their  own  })ride  in  the  excellence  of  their  skill  shall 
induce  them  to  prefer  it  to  other  employments.  Let  us  then  consider 
the  various  appliances,  direct  and  indirect,  by  the  use  of  which  we 
may  gradually  approximate  towards  the  accomplishment  of  this  de- 
sirable end. 

In  instituting  a  system  of  agricultural  education,  there  are  five  gen- 
eral objects  to  be  regarded : — 

First,  the  moral  training  of  the  youth,  to  cause  them  to  love  their 
occupation : 

/Second,  their  physical  training,  to  enable  them  to  endure  their 
labor : 

Third,  their  mechanical  practice,  to  fit  them  to  perform  their 
work : 

Fourth,  their  early  practical  instruction  to  qualify  them  to  under- 
stand their  business : 

Fifth,  their  instruction  in  collateral  science  to  enable  them  to 
improve  their  practice. 

The  moral  training  of  the  youth,  included  in  the  first  head,  is  the 
most  difficult  point  to  be  discussed,  under  the  present  circumstances 
of  the  country,  when  other  employments  offer  more  dazzling  tempta- 
tions, and  promise  greater  rewards  than  the  sober  occupations  of  agri- 
culture. Population  has  not  yet  become  so  dense  as  to  cause  a  man 
who  owns  a  farm  to  congratulate  himself  that  it  is  not  other  property. 
Indeed  he  often  feels  chagrined,  when  he  considers  that  the  accidental 
possession  of  a  farm  has  imposed  upon  him  some  necessity  to  live  on 
it.  In  too  many  instances  a  farmer  with  five  or  six  sons  is  unable  to 
induce  one  of  them  to  remain  upon  the  homestead  and  follow  his  occu- 
pation. All,  one  by  one,  as  they  approach  manhood,  leave  the  farm 
and  give  their  attention  to  other  pursuits.  One  learns  a  mechanical 
art,  another  studies  a  learned  profession,  and  others  become  trades- 
men. Not  one  can  be  persuaded  to  take  the  farm,  though  it  be 
promised  to  him  as  his  inheritance,  if  he  will  but  consent  to 
occupy  it. 

We  will  admit  that  it  is  not  desirable  that  every  farmer's  son 
should  follow  the  business  of  his  father.  All  other  employments  must 
be  replenished  by  those  who  go  out  from  the  agricultural  ranks,  which 
must  always  furnish  the  largest  proportion  of  healthy  men.  The  aim 
of  the  statesman  should  be  to  place  agriculture  on  such  a  basis,  as 
that  the  father  who  is  a  farmer  should  always  be  represented  by  one 


of  his  sons,  and  that  of  several,  the  one  who  receives  tlie  farm  as  his 
portion,  should  be  regarded  as  the  most  fortunate,  though  the  others 
inherit  the  same  amount  of  wealth  ;  that  the  farm  should  not  go 
a-begging  for  an  occupant  among  the  heirs  ;  but  should  pass  down 
from  father  to  son,  with  all  those  advantages  that  attend  the  holding 
of  an  estate  a  long  time  in  the  possession  of  one  family. 

There  are  many  causes  for  this  general  aversion  to  the  steady  pur- 
suit of  agriculture  ;  and  in  discussing  the  first  point  of  a  farmer's  edu- 
cation, it  may  be  well  to  enumerate  some  of  the  most  prominent  moral 
causes.  The  lesson  that  is  taught  our  young  men  is  not,  as  it  ought 
to  be,  to  prepare  themselves  to  obtain  a  good  livelihood,  and  to  prac- 
tice that  industry  and  economy  which  will  slowly,  but  surely  lead  to 
competence  :  on  the  contrary,  they  are  taught  to  look  with  secret  con- 
tempt on  one  who  would  be  satisfied  with  growing  rich  by  the  slow 
process  of  industry  and  frugality.  A  virtuous  economy  is  not  distin- 
guished from  avarice  and  meanness.  Young  men  are  led  to  over- 
rate the  importance  of  superfluous  wealth,  the  hope  of  which  absorbs 
nearly  all  their  thoughts.  The  aims  of  ambition  presented  to  their 
minds,  are  to  be  "  great  men :" — not  industrious,  honest  and  intelli- 
gent citizens — but  men  of  excessive  Avealth  or  distinguished  position 
— for  such  only  receive  the  eulogies  of  the  press,  the  pulpit  and  the 
lyceum. 

If  all  the  young  men,  who  are  destined  to  be  farmers,  could  be  in- 
spired with  an  ambition  that  is  based  upon  the  pursuit  of  agriculture, 
this  ambition  alone  would  cause  them  to  become  skilful  and  intelli- 
gent in  the  practice  of  their  art.  It  is  those  who  love  their  occupa- 
tion who  are  the  most  likely  to  become  well  acquainted  with  it.  The 
means  and  opportunities  for  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  are  so  great, 
that  it  is  more  important  to  increase  the  desire  for  any  branch  of 
knowledge  than  the  opportunities  for  gaining  it.  But  so  long  as 
young  men  commence  the  business  of  farming,  with  an  ambition  only 
to  be  rich,  they  will  not  employ  their  minds  upon  the  best  modes  of 
cultivation,  but  upon  the  means  that  might  be  used  to  cause  a  rise  in 
the  value  of  their  estate.  They  will  endeavor  to  get  a  railroad  sta- 
tion near  it,  or  some  manufactory,  not  to  improve  the  market  for  its 
products,  but  that  they  may  convert  the  old  homestead  into  house- 
lots,  and  make  money  by  the  sale  of  them.  Without  denying  that 
such  enterprises  may  often  be  advantageous  to  the  public,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  this  method  of  employing  the  mind  is  ruinous  to  the  attain- 
ment of  useful  agricultural  information  or  skill,  and  to  the  improve- 
ment of  tiie  farm. 

This  chance  of  growing  rich  by  land  speculation  is  very  apt  to  ruin 
the  thrift  of  a  farmer,  because  it  diverts  his  mind  from  his  business, 
and  employs  his  faculties  in  a  way  that  does  not  increase  his  profi- 
ciency in  his  art.  One  is  more  likely  by  such  efforts  of  the  mind,  to 
become  a  good  politician  than  a  good  husbandman.  Any  train  of 
circumstances,  therefoi'e,  which  serves  to  discourage  these  diverting 
hopes  of  wealth,  and  these  speculating  habits,  and  turn  one's  attention 
to  the  science  and  practice  of  agriculture,  as  his  exclusive  occupation, 
will  prepare  him  for  excellence  in  his  department.  This  must  be  a 
slow  process,  and  must  partly  grow  out  of  the  changing  condition  of 


the  country ;  it  cannot  be  wholly  the  result  of  any  direct  systeni  of 
training  or  instruction.  But  many  influences  may  still  be  brought  to 
bear  upon  the  public  mind,  Avhich  may  serve  to  hasten  the  develop- 
ment of  a  general  love  for  rural  occupations,  and  an  ambition  among 
farmers  to  be  excellent  in  their  business. 

So  long  as  our  young  men  engage  in  farming  against  their  free 
will  and  inclination,  because  they  are  crowded  out  of  other  paths  ; 
so  long  as,  while  occupied  in  the  field,  they  comfort  themselves  with 
the  hope  that  something  may  happen,  which  will  turn  the  old  home- 
stead into  a  field  for  land  speculation  ;  so  long  as  their  ambition  finds 
no  gratification  in  the  management  of  the  farm,  we  would  say,  though 
they  may  be  useful  and  intelligent  citizens,  they  cannot  be  skilful  or 
successful  farmers.  Some  of  the  right  ambition  might  be  fostered  by 
efforts  that  should  induce  men  to  improve  the  beauty  of  their  farms. 
Many  a  youth  might  be  prompted  to  retain  the  farm  in  his  possession 
by  that  love  which  was  first  created  for  it,  by  its  picturesque  appear- 
ances, and  those  charms  that  please  the  eye  of  a  man  of  taste.  Let 
the  old  farmers  understand,  that  if  they  would  induce  one  or  more  of 
their  sons  to  follow  their  occupation,  they  would  find  it  expedient  to 
avoid  marring  the  beauty  of  their  fields  by  the  destruction  of  their 
natural  ornaments.  The  removal  of  an  old  oak  tree  from  a  knoll  in 
an  adjoining  pasture,  or  a  fine  clump  of  native  shrubbery  from  the 
brow  of  a  hill  that  overlooks  the  house,  may  turn  the  mind  of  the 
only  one  of  the  sons  who  has  any  inclination  for  farming,  into  another 
direction.  Who  can  tell  how  many  good  resolutions,  in  favor  of  rural 
pursuits,  have  been  destroyed  by  the  axe  that  laid  low  the  beautiful 
ash  tree  that  shaded  the  path  to  the  old  farm-house,  or  the  noble  oak 
that  showered  its  sweet  acorns  in  some  familiar  nook  !  The  avarice 
of  the  farmer  who  sells  to  the  "  timberer "  the  sylvan  beauty  of  his 
estate,  has  made  many  an  intelligent  youth  a  voluntary  exile  from  his 
paternal  fields. 

To  make  the  farm  an  object  of  affection,  it  must  also  contribute 
something  to  gratify  the  desires  of  the  ambition.  A  man  who  is  proud 
of  his  farm  would  also  wish  to  be  proud  of  his  farming.  A  taste  for 
rural  embellishment,  prudently  and  economically  directed  ;  for  that 
kind  of  embellishment  which  appeals  to  the  principle  of  utility  and  to 
the  love  of  nature  rather  than  of  art,  may  be  made  an  important  aid 
in  improving  the  education  of  farmers.  As  soon  as  one  begins  to 
improve  the  appearance  of  his  estate,  he  begins  to  improve  his  taste 
and  his  knowledge ;  and  though  he  should  spoil  some  things  in  his 
attempts,  he  becomes  a  gainer  by  the  exercise  which  the  work  has 
afforded  his  mind. 

It  is  somewhat  dangerous  to  recommend  home  embellishments,  as 
they  are  generally  associated  only  with  architectural  follies,  with  nice 
gravel  walks  and  showy  parterres.  The  generality  of  men  find  it 
difficult  to  understand  the  meaning  of  embellishment,  as  applied  to 
those  simple  and  rustic  ornaments  that  cost  nothing,  and  which  are 
so  peculiarly  appropriate  to  a  farmer's  home.  The  books  which  have 
been  published  in  England  and  in  this  country,  on  "  Landscape  Gar- 
dening," furnish  no  valuable  ideas  to  the  New  England  Farmer,  and 
the  best  of  them  would  serve  but  to  lead  him  astray. 


8 

There  are  many  other  congenial  influences  that  might  be  used  to 
inspire  young  men  with  a  love  for  rural  pursuits.  They  are  now  too 
apt  to  consider  their  hard  hands  as  disgraceful,  and  to  overlook  the 
honors  wliich  may  be  held  in  them.  No  man  Avould  be  ashamed  of 
his  hard  hands,  who  could  point  to  certain  results  that  prove  them  to 
have  been  intelligently  employed.  Let  him  show  by  his  good  prac- 
tical information,  his  gentlemanly  deportment,  his  excellent  farm,  his 
beautiful  estate,  and  his  happy  and  virtuous  family — a  subject  as 
worthy  the  pride  of  an  American  as  of  a  Roman — that  his  hard 
hands  are  associated  with  a  superior  intellect,  and  are  proof  that  his 
mental  gifts  are  not  conjoined  with  physical  degeneracy.  Let  him  be 
proud  of  his  possessions,  not  as  mere  evidences  of  wealth,  but  as 
proofs  of  industry,  skill,  intelligence  and  taste.  How  noble  is  such 
an  ambition,  compared  with  the  wretched  vanity  of  those,  who  sacri- 
fice their  manhood,  and  submit  to  the  abject  slavery  of  fashion,  to  gain 
a  little  sh§rt-lived  notoriety. 

Some  beneficial  effects  might  be  produced  by  furnishing  the  town 
libraries  with  books  that  serve  to  raise  the  merits  of  rural  pursuits. 
Books  that  aim,  by  the  statement  of  agreeable  facts,  not  by  mere 
declamatory  praises,  to  exalt  our  ideas  of  a  farmer's  life,  and  to 
render  it  pleasing  both  to  the  ambition  and  the  imagination  of  youth, 
should  be  selected  for  the  juvenile  libraries.  If  no  such  works  exist, 
they  ought  to  be  written.  This  is  one  of  the  neglected  departments 
of  literature  ;  for  the  praises  which  Virgil  and  Horace  bestowed  upon 
a  country  life,  are  in  the  present  age  considered  as  mere  poetical 
fictions.  The  counting-room,  not  the  open  field,  is  now  lauded  as  the 
situation  most  becoming  a  freeman.  The  slavery  of  confinement  is 
preferred  to  the  wearisomeness  of  labor,  and  men  who  were  formerly 
taught  to  venerate  the  plough  have  forgotten  their  ancient  faith,  and 
have  turned  to  a  new  worship. 

We  must  not  omit  to  speak  of  the  improvement  of  household  econ- 
omy, as  likely  to  cherish  a  love  for  farming  occupations.  We  intro- 
duce this  subject  in  connection  with  what  we  have  said  on  moral 
training,  because  the  comforts  and  luxuries  of  home  within  the  house, 
must  exert  an  important  influence  in  making  one  contented  with  his 
employments  in  the  field.  The  table,  no  less  than  the  fireside,  should 
furnish  a  rational  entertainment  to  the  family,  to  fill  the  minds  of  the 
different  members  with  agreeable  anticipations,  when  they  are  away 
from  home,  and  with  cheerful  satisfaction,  when  they  arrive.  If  young 
men  were  accustomed  to  associate  the  farmer's  life  with  all  the  whole- 
some luxuries  of  an  ample  and  generous  board,  they  would  hold  it  in 
higher  esteem,  as  well  as  affection.  But  if  it  is  associated  with  the 
idea  of  a  mean,  unwholesome  and  monotonous  fare,  such  as  Ave  see 
upon  many  farmers'  tables,  it  is  hated  and  despised.  Our  farmers' 
wives  know  less  of  the  art  of  preparing  culinary  fruits  and  vegetables, 
in  a  variety  of  ways,  than  the  people  who  live  in  town.  Strange  as 
it  may  seem,  they  understand  the  confectioner's  art  better  than  they 
know  how  to  prepare  for  the  table  the  simple  products  of  the  farm ! 
A  farmer's  fare  is  exceedingly  monotonous,  and  is  far  from  being  a 
model  in  regard  to  wholesomeness  or  economy.  A  little  tract  giving 
an  account  of  8\\\  important  vegetables  and  annual  fruits,  which  may 


be  raised  for  domestic  use,  the  method  of  cultivating  them,  and  the 
art  of  preparing  them  for  the  table,  ought  to  be  published  and  circu- 
lated among  farmers. 

We  will  conclude  our  remarks  under  the  first  general  head,  by  al- 
luding to  the  establishment  of  frequent  periodical  fairs,  in  order  to 
supply  the  want  of  social  pleasures,  consequent  upon  the  isolated 
character  of  a  farmer's  home.  This  want  of  society  is  a  sad  misfor- 
tune, in  many  cases,  and  contributes,  perhaps  as  much  as  any  other 
circumstance,  towai'ds  creating  a  dislike  for  the  occupations  of  agri- 
culture. It  is  a  want,  however,  which  will  gradually  be  supplied  by 
the  increase  of  population,  and  the  multiplied  facilities  of  travelling  ; 
but  it  may  also  be  relieved  by  many  expedients,  which  would  indi- 
rectly aid  the  cause  of  education.  Such  would  be  the  influence  of 
monthly  agricultural  fairs  in  the  several  counties  or  districts. 

We  will  now  turn  our  attention  to  the  physical  training  which  is 
necessary  to  enable  the  young  men  to  endure  their  labor.  A  boy  who 
is  to  be  a  farmer,  and  who  is  expected  to  work  with  his  own  hands, 
must  from  his  earliest  years  be  trained  to  robust  exercises.  He  must 
be  educated  in  such  a  manner,  as  not  to  be  incapacitated  to  endure 
the  toil  and  hardship  of  a  farmer's  life.  Without  this  hardihood  his 
business  would  be  a  sore  affliction,  and  not  an  agreeable  and  healthful 
employment.  Labor  and  practice  must  attend  all  his  steps ;  and  a 
knowledge  of  the  application  of  science  to  agriculture  must  be  im- 
parted to  him  during  those  days  and  hours,  when  occasion  requires  a 
suspension  of  labor.  All  the  gifts  of  science  which  a  young  man  can 
thus  obtain,  without  a  relinquishment  of  those  habits  of  invigorating 
exercise,  which  are  needful  to  insure  a  capacity  for  toil,  are  clear  gain 
to  agriculture.  For  every  art,  the  youth  who  is  to  be  instructed  in 
it,  must  be  trained  in  harness  ;  and  the  knowledge  that  comes  to  him 
while  handling  the  implements  of  his  art,  is  worth  more  than  the  same 
amount  gathered  in  a  library.  A  slavish  continuance  of  labor  ought 
to  be  condemned,  because  every  man  has  a  right  to  the  enjoyment  of 
life ;  but  there  is  always  danger,  lest  dui'ing  long  and  frequent  relax- 
ations from  labor,  a  young  man  may  lose,  both  his  capacity  to  endure 
and  bis  willingness  to  follow  a  toilsome  occupation.  Such  an  objec- 
tion is  very  generally  urged  by  our  farmers  against  agricultural  col- 
leges, which  they  say,  would  not  only  unfit  the  youth  for  labor,  but 
would  cause  them  to  turn  away  into  other  paths. 

But  our  people  obtain  their  ideas  of  an  agricultural  college  from 
the  customs  of  our  literary  institutions,  in  which  there  is  no  just  pro- 
vision for  the  physical  training  of  the  pupils.  In  an  agricultural 
school,  this  would  form  a  very  important  part  of  the  exercises ;  and 
at  such  an  institution,  under  a  good  system  of  regulations  and  disci- 
pline, as  at  a  military  school,  the  boys  would  be  hardened  by  their  la- 
bor on  the  farm  connected  with  the  school,  while  they  were  pursuing 
a  coui'se  of  studies.  But  agricultural  colleges  must  be  slow  in  com- 
ing into  existence,  and  under  the  most  favorable  auspices,  could  not 
extend  their  benefits  very  widely  among  our  scattered  farming  popu- 
lation. Without  denying  the  advantages  which  would  accrue  to  those 
who  should  receive  their  education  at  such  a  school,  we  must  at  pres- 

5-8 


10 

ent  consider  how  we  can  make  the  best  use  of  the  means  of  education 
which  are  available. 

We  must  not  overlook  the  fact  that  the  farmer,  unless  he  be  pos- 
sessed of  great  wealth,  must  be  a  working-man.  He  is  not  obliged 
to  be  a  drudge ;  he  may  consistently  with  his  robust  frame  and  his 
laborious  habits,  be  a  m«n  of  extensive  knowledge  and  an  intelligent 
citizen ;  but  he  cannot  be  a  student,  in  the  usual  acceptation  of  the 
term ;  nor  a  searcher  of  libraries.  Like  a  soldier,  he  must  be  trained 
to  robust  exercises ;  he  must  be  able  to  endure  severe  occasional  toil, 
and  must  be  preserved  from  physical  degeneracy.  Men  of  sedentary 
habits  may  be  powerful  in  sudden  efforts  of  strength ;  but  the  labori- 
ous alone  can  endure  long  continued  exertion. 

Excellence  in  any  calling,  or  profession,  cannot  be  attained  without 
the  entire  devotion  to  it  of  all  one's  faculties.  If  we  wish  to  convert 
our  farmers  into  an  aristocracy  of  landlords,  a  body  of  country  squires, 
who  shall  merely  superintend  the  operations  of  the  farm,  the  physical 
training  required  by  a  laboring  farmer,  might  in  their  case,  be  omitted. 
But  they  must  not  only  enjoy  increased  advantages  of  education,  they 
must  also  increase  their  wealth,  by  making  it  at  least  ten-fold  greater 
than  it  is  at  present.  It  would  be  nothing  to  such  a  body  of  farmers, 
whether  they  could  hold  a  plough  or  swing  a  scythe ;  nothing  to  them 
that  they  could  not  perform  half  a  day's  labor,  nor  bear  exposure  to 
cold  and  storm.  Such  a  class  of  men,  however,  does  not  exist  in  the 
New  England  States.  Our  farmers  in  general  are  men  who  have  but 
little  wealth,  except  their  houses  and  lands  ;  and  the  amount  of  labor 
they  can  afford  to  hire  is  very  inconsiderable.  Out  of  these  it  would 
not  be  possible,  if  it  were  desired,  to  create  a  class  of  wealthy  men  of 
leisure.  The  aim  of  the  statesman  should  be  to  improve  the  intelli- 
gence and  practical  skill  of  our  present  yeomanry,  without  inducing 
less  industrious  or  laborious  habits.  The  only  cases  we  should  ex- 
cept are  of  those  individuals,  who  from  ignorance  and  the  want  of 
sufficiently  liberal  ideas,  have  become  voluntary  drudges,  and  wear 
themselves  out  with  excessive  toil. 

Superior  intelligence,  caused  by  the  diffusion  of  knowledge  among 
the  mass  of  farmers,  would  probably  diminish  the  necessity  for  the 
present  amount  of  labor  to  produce  the  same  results,  since  knowledge 
is  confessedly  one  of  the  most  important  means  to  increase  the  effi- 
ciency of  labor.  Too  many  of  our  farmers  are  now  mere  drudges, 
and  their  wives  and  daughters  are  the  same.  This  is  the  fact,  in 
many  instances,  in  which  poverty  cannot  be  pleaded  as  an  excuse  for 
it,  and  when  it  is  plainly  the  result  of  ignorance,  meanness  or  stupid- 
ity. It  is  a  misfoi'tune  to  be  doomed  to  such  excessive  and  unremit- 
ting toil,  as  to  be  disqualified  for  any  exercise  of  the  intellect,  or  for 
social  recreations.  This  is  the  misfortune  of  some  of  the  peasantry 
of  Europe ;  but  our  people  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  it,  because  it  is 
not  their  doom.  Slavish  toil  is  disgraceful  to  freemen,  and  produces 
both  physical  and  mental  degeneracy,  by  wearing  out  the  body,  and 
causing  the  faculties  of  the  mind  to  pine  away  from  disuse.  We 
should  endeavor  to  raise  this  class  of  our  farmers  from  their  present 
voluntary  servitude,  by  extending  to  them  the  means  of  education. 
After  they  have  become  intelligent  men,  they  will  be  thrifty  farmers, 


11 

without  degrnding  themselves  to  the  condition  of  beasts  of  burden. 
Acknowledging  the  dignity  of  labor,  when  it  is  guided  by  intellect, 
we  should  endeavor  to  convert  our  farmers  into  a  superior  class  of 
working-men. 

The  Americans  are  probably  excelled  by  Europeans  in  the  capacity 
to  endure  severe  labor  and  hardship.  This  is  not  the  effect  of  our 
climate,  but  of  the  changeful  and  unsystematic  habits  of  our  rural 
population,  with  respect  to  labor  and  exposure  to  the  vicissitudes  of 
the  weather.  Few  of  our  farmers  have  always  been  steady  in  one 
pursuit.  Farmers'  boys  are  generally  vacillating  between  shoemak- 
ing  and  farming,  during  all  their  early  years,  and  sometimes  for  the 
greater  part  of  their  life.  They  frequently  pursue  the  two  occupa- 
tions together,  being  shoemakers  in  the  winter,  and  farmers  at  other 
seasons.  Such  a  course  may  have  been  promotive  of  their  interest, 
under  the  past  circumstances  of  the  country.  But  the  sedentary  and 
confined  habits  of  the  shoemaker  are  enfeebling,  and  a  shoemaking 
farmer,  other  things  being  equal,  cannot  be  so  robust  and  so  capable 
of  enduring  protracted  labor  and  exposure,  as  one  who  has  always 
confined  himself  to  the  exercises  of  the  farm.  One  may  be  some- 
what more  intelligent  on  general  subjects,  if  he  has  joined  his  occupa- 
tion with  other  pursuits ;  but  his  practical  skill  in  agriculture  must  be 
somewhat  diminished  by  the  same  causes.  "We  cannot  have  an  agri- 
cultural population  equal  in  practical  skill  and  efficiency  to  that  of  the 
best  agricultural  provinces  of  Europe,  until  a  change  of  circumstances 
has  caused  our  farmers  to  be  exclusively  devoted  to  their  art.  So 
long  as  farm-labor  is  so  unsystematic,  that  during  a  considerable  part 
of  the  year,  a  farmer  must  attend  to  other  business  to  fill  his  unoccu- 
pied time,  agriculture  cannot  be  carried  to  perfection. 

While  treating  of  the  capacity  for  enduring  labor  and  hardship,  as 
an  indispensable  qualification  for  a  working  farmer,  the  question  nat- 
urally arises,  how  far  an  individual  may  cultivate  his  mind  without 
enervating  his  body.  This  is  an  important  physiological  inquiry ;  for 
it  is  granted  that  the  highest  cultivation  should  be  recommended  to 
every  class  of  working-men  which  is  compatible  with  the  requisite 
amount  of  muscle  and  physical  energy.  But  there  is  a  law  of 
compensation,  which  it  is  unwise  either  to  ignore  or  to  overlook,  how 
much  soever  it  may  disturb  our  ideas  and  hopes  of  human  perfecti- 
bility. "While  it  will  not  be  denied  that  the  best  system  of  education, 
for  any  class  of  people,  is  that  which  permits  none  of  the  physical, 
moral  or  intellectual  powers  to  remain  unimproved,  it  must  be  admit- 
ted —  however  deeply  we  may  regret  that  nature  has  established  such 
a  law  —  that  any  amount  of  time  or  exertion  which  is  devoted  to  an 
intellectual  pursuit,  is  subtracted  from  the  time  and  exertion  which 
might  be  employed  in  hardening  the  muscles,  and  fortifying  the  health. 
"While  we  are  cultivating  our  faculties  for  a  certain  class  of  exercises, 
we  are  sacrificing  so  much  of  our  opportunity,  not  to  say  our  ability, 
to  acquire  skill  in  exercises  of  an  opposite  character.  Hence  the  noto- 
rious fact,  that  the  most  thrifty  men,  in  the  common  ranks  of  life,  are 
those  who  are  fitted  only  for  one  occupation,  if  that  one  is  their  own 
special  calling.  A  want  of  versatility  is  favorable  to  success,  in  the 
case  of  all  who  have  learned  and  adopted  a  profitable  business.     Those 


12 

who  are  ignorant  of  all  arts  except  their  own,  have  no  temptation  to 
turn  aside  from  it.  They  do  not  yearn  for  a  more  agreeable  and 
congenial  exercise  of  their  faculties,  like  one  of  superior  talents  who 
would  see  many  other  ways  in  which  he  might  be  more  pleasantly, 
if  not  more  protitably  employed. 

We  will  not  pursue  this  analysis  any  further,  but  hasten  to  the 
conclusion,  that  a  different  system  of  physical,  moral  and  intellectual 
training  is  needful,  respectively,  for  the  members  of  the  different 
trades  and  professions.  If  we  train  a  merchant  to  be  a  philosopher, 
though  we  may  increase  his  usefulness  to  society,  we  spoil  his  chance 
of  becoming  rich.  If  we  inoculate  a  mechanic  with  a  knowledge  of 
the  law,  he  becomes  more  skilful  in  disputation  than  in  the  use  of 
tools.  If  we  convert  a  farmer  into  a  book-worm,  his  conversation 
is  likely  to  be  superior  to  his  practice,  and  his  head  becomes  stronger 
than  his  hands.  The  educational  question,  which  has  not  yet  received 
a  satisfactory  answer,  relates  to  the  course  of  training  and  instruction 
which  will  serve  in  the  best  manner  to  improve  the  rural  classes  in 
knowledge,  and  give  them,  at  the  same  time,  the  greatest  efficiency  as 
agricultural  producers.  It  seems  to  be  very  generally  admitted,  how- 
ever, that  they  should  learn  by  practical  observation  and  occasional 
reading,  rather  than  by  any  regular  devotion  to  the  study  of  books. 

We  are  not  prepared  to  contend  for  that  severe  application  to  toil 
that  leaves  no  time  for  recreation,  or  for  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  ; 
but  merely  for  that  regular  devotion  to  robust  exercises  which  is 
necessary  to  preserve  the  greatest  vigor  of  the  physical  constitution. 
Our  rural  population  must  be  preserved  from  physical  degeneracy,  or 
as  a  nation  we  are  lost ;  for  it  is  on  this  class  that  we  are  to  depend 
for  the  constant  re-inforcement  of  the  other  ranks  of  society. 
We  can  place  no  such  dependence  on  the  great  body  of  artisans  and 
mechanics,  since  the  majority  of  the  mechanical  arts  tend,  more  or  less 
injuriously,  to  cramp  one  set  of  muscles  and  to  overtask  another  set. 
It  is  not  among  mechanics  or  the  learned  professions,  that  we  are  to 
look  for  the  most  complete  amount  of  physical  development.  Many 
of  the  mechanical  occupations  are  of  such  a  sedentary  character,  and 
so  partial  in  their  exercise  of  the  frame,  as  to  deform  the  body  and 
seriously  impair  the  constitutional  vigor.  This  cannot  be  said  of  the 
employments  of  the  farm.  The  sons  of  farmers,  if  brought  up  to 
agricultural  labor,  are,  above  the  children  of  all  other  classes,  likely 
to  become  good  models  of  sound  physical  men.  Their  employments 
exercise  about  equally  all  parts  of  their  body  :  there  is  not  a  limb  or 
a  muscle  that  is  not  continually  brought  into  action.  If  our  farmers, 
at  the  present  time,  do  not  exhibit  such  a  completeness  of  develop- 
ment, it  is  because  in  connection  with  farming,  they  have  pursued 
other  occupations  which  are  less  healthful,  or  they  have  committed 
certain  essential  errors  of  diet  and  regimen,  which  are  very  common 
among  our  laboring  classes. 

When  employed,  therefore,  in  devising  a  system  of  agricultural 
education,  we  must  not  overlook  the  necessity  of  preserving  the  rural 
classes  from  physical  degeneracy.  It  is  better  that  they  should  be 
less  scientific  than  less  robust,  less  studious  than  less  healthful :  better 
that  they  should  be  good  farmers  by  rote,  than  effeminate  scholars 


13 

who  are  unable  to  work.  It  is  not  probable  that  any  action  of  our 
agricultural  societies  can  revolutionise  the  habits  of  our  rural  popu- 
lation ;  but  without  doubt  a  succession  of  wisely  directed  efforts  miglit 
set  in  motion  a  reformatory  action,  that  would  gradually  elevate  tiiis 
class  to  the  point  which  should  be  the  end  and  aim  of  a  rational  phi- 
lanthropist. 

In  studying  these  effects,  we  must  not  forget  the  influence  of  opin- 
ions which,  in  their  action  on  the  general  mind,  when  first  introduced, 
are  like  alterative  medicines  to  the  human  system.  If  we  can  but 
succeed  in  infusing  correct  opinions  into  the  minds  of  men,  these  ideas 
will  cause  them  to  do  for  themselves  what  a  wise  ruler  might  wish  to 
do  for  them,  by  the  establishment  of  good  institutions.  The  rural 
classes  have  been  greatly  prejudiced  against  the  improvement  of  their 
minds,  by  hearing  too  much  said  in  favor  of  scientific  attainments  for 
the  farmer.  Their  common-sense  inclines  them  to  believe  that  there 
is  more  cant  than  philosophy  in  all  this  preaching.  If  we  claim  too 
much  for  science,  in  its  application  to  agriculture,  our  audience  may 
refuse  to  allow  so  much  as  they  would,  if  our  claims  were  less  exor- 
bitant. They  perceive  a  certain  incompatibility  between  study  and 
labor,  between  hard  muscles  and  a  full  mind  ;  and  hence  they  are  led 
to  doubt  the  advantageous  application  of  science  to  the  exercise  of 
their  art.  A  contrary  opinion  must  not  be  enforced  upon  them  with- 
out qualifications  ;  for  the  common-sense  of  uninformed  men  is  often 
right  when  philosophy  is  wrong. 

Men  must  be  taught  in  a  way  in  which  they  are  willing  to  receive 
instruction,  and  will  not  learn  from  those  whose  teaching  humiliates 
them.  A  farmer  is  usually  proud  of  his  common-sense,  of  his  bodily 
strength,  his  sagacity,  his  manual  skill  and  his  practical  information. 
Though  he  may  over-estimate  himself,  he  cannot  too  highly  estimate 
these  qualities,  of  which  any  man  may  reasonably  be  proud.  If  we 
approach  one  of  these  practical,  sagacious  and  sturdy  fellows,  and 
humble  him  by  trying  to  prove  that  he  would  be  a  better  farmer,  if 
he  was  likewise  a  man  of  science — a  chemist,  a  botanist,  an  entomol- 
ogist and  philosopher — he  is  offended.  He  has  a  sort  of  intuitive 
understanding  that  such  a  combination  of  science,  practical  skill  and 
robust  vigor  is  impossible.  The  man  who  is  trying  to  enforce  upon 
him  the  value  of  science  may  state  many  undeniable  truths,  but  he 
cannot  convince  him  that  a  college  would  turn  out  so  many  good 
farmers,  among  the  same  number  of  pupils,  as  an  agricultural  dis- 
trict, with  the  farm  ibr  the  school-room,  nature  for  the  laboratory, 
and  intelligent  farmers  for  instructors. 

The  third  division  of  our  subject  relates  to  the  early  mechanical 
practice  which  is  required  to  Jit  young  men  to  perform  their  work. 
The  distinction  between  practical  knowledge,  and  manual  skill  or 
mechanical  tact,  is  not  generally  understood,  but  it  is  a  very  im- 
portant one.  The  proprietor  of  a  farm,  who  should  superintend  its 
operations,  if  he  were  young  and  capable,  though  he  never  joined  in 
the  labor,  would  soon  obtain  a  practical  knowledge  of  farming.  But 
unless  he  participated  in  the  labor,  he  would  not  learn  to  hold  a 
plough,  to  swing  a  scythe,  nor  to  perform  any  but  the  most  simple 
operations  of  agriculture.      He  might  be  thorough  in  his  practical 


14 

knowledge,  a  good  adviser  in  regard  to  times  and  seasons,  sowing, 
reaping  and  all  that  appertains  to  successful  practice.  Still  he  is  not 
a  complete  farmer,  because  he  is  wanting  in  manual  skill  and 
mechanical  tact.  He  cannot  with  his  own  hands  perform  the  manipu- 
lations of  the  farm. 

An  ignorant  journeyman,  on  the  other  hand,  who  feels  no  particular 
interest  in  farming,  except  to  perform  satisfactorily  those  manual 
operations  which  are  required  of  him  as  a  hired  laborer,  such  as 
ploughing,  sowing,  mowing  and  reaping,  may  be  very  deficient  in 
practical  knowledge,  and  incapable  of  managing  a  farm.  The  quali- 
fications of  each  of  these  men  must  be  joined  in  one  to  make  a 
complete  farmer.  The  first  is  a  man  of  practical  knowledge  without 
mechanical  tact,  the  other  possesses  mechanical  tact  without  practical 
knowledge.  Too  many  men  who  call  themselves  farmers  are  mere 
users  of  tools,  efiicient  workmen  under  the  direction  of  others,  but 
wanting  in  that  fund  of  intelligent  experience  which  a  master  farmer 
must  possess.  In  large  manufactories,  where  there  is  necessarily  a 
minute  division  of  labor,  it  may  be  expedient  to  convert  men  into 
machines,  each  individual  performing  only  his  particular  part  of  the 
work.  But  the  farmer  must  be  a  whole  man,  not  a  machine  ;  he 
needs  to  be  both  head  and  hand :  he  must  have  strength  united  with 
skill,  skill  with  experience,  and  experience  with  intellect.  Otherwise 
he  is  but  the  fraction  of  a  farmer,  and  must  depend  on  others,  either 
for  guidance  or  execution. 

With  regard  to  manual  skill  and  practical  knowledge,  we  would 
remark  that  there  are  more  who  would  acquire  the  first  than  the  last, 
under  equal  opportunities  for  becoming  proficient  in  each,  because  an 
aptness  to  perform  mechanical  operations  is  a  more  common  talent 
than  an  aptness  for  nice  and  intelligent  observation.  But  it  cannot 
be  said  that  one  is  more  important  than  the  other.  It  is  the  practice 
of  these  manual  operations  that  gives  a  man  that  complete  physical 
development  which  is  essential  to  a  working  farmer.  One  may  learn 
how  land  should  be  ploughed,  by  looking  on,  while  the  ploughmen 
are  at  work  ;  but  if  he  only  looks  on,  he  loses  two  advantages  :  he 
fails  to  acquire  that  hardness  and  vigor  of  muscle  which  are  devel- 
oped by  such  exercise,  and  the  mechanical  skill  and  tact  which  are 
needful  for  performing  the  task.  The  same  may  be  said  of  all  the 
other  exercises  of  the  farm. 

The  farm  must  be  the  gymnasium  in  which  strength  and  dexterity 
are  acquired,  and  the  school  in  which  the  agricultural  art  must  be 
taught.  Manual  skill,  like  skill  in  debate,  in  mathematics,  or  in  any 
exercise  of  the  wits,  can  be  acquired  only  by  early  practice.  Science 
must  be  learned  in  college  ;  music  in  the  concert  room,  the  art  of  war 
in  the  camp,  and  the  practice  of  agriculture  in  the  field.  While  an 
intelligent  lad  is  working  on  a  well-conducted  farm,  he  learns  more 
than  we  might  at  first  believe :  he  is  at  the  same  time  obtaining 
knowledge,  hardihood  and  dexterity.  If  he  is  building  wall,  every 
stone  he  lifts  from  the  ground  hardens  and  perfects  the  growth  of  his 
muscles,  and  every  stone  he  places  upon  the  wall  accustoms  him  to  the 
skilful  adjustment  of  the  different  materials.  While  he  is  ploughing, 
he  is  acquainting  himself  with  the  character  of  different  soils ;  and 


when  engaged  in  weeding,  though  he  is  not  a  botanist,  he  learns  to 
identify  uU  the  various  phmts  that  inhabit  the  soil.  The  fund  of 
practical  information  thus  obtained  by  capable  men  is  not  fully  appre- 
ciated, nor  is  the  public  generally  aware  how  many  different  uses  of 
the  muscles  are  required  by  the  common  tasks  of  the  farmer. 

A  physician  or  a  merchant  may  resort  to  farming,  and  without  the 
advantage  of  early  practice,  be  remarkably  successful  in  his  new 
business ;  and  the  success  of  such  individuals  has  led  many  persons 
to  overrate  science  when  compared  with  practical  experience.  But 
it  will  be  found  that  these  men  are  always  dependent  on  the  advice 
of  some  person  who  has,  from  his  youth,  been  accustomed  to  farm- 
labor,  and  has  become  practically  conversant  with  its  exercises.  Were 
they  left  alone  in  their  undertaking,  or  were  they  assisted  only  by 
others  like  themselves,  they  would  make  a  sad  failure.  He  who 
attempts,  after  his  youth  is  past,  without  any  previous  experience,  to 
carry  on  a  farm,  soon  discovers,  that  notwithstanding  his  superiority 
to  the  mass  of  farmers  in  his  capacity  to  learn  new  things,  and  in  the 
power  of  judicious  discrimination  between  the  value  of  new  and  old 
systems,  he  suffers  a  painful  inferiority,  in  minute  practical  knowledge, 
to  the  most  ordinary  laboring  man  who  was  bred  upon  a  farm.  Men 
who  leave  the  ranks  of  a  profession,  or  a  counting-room,  to  become 
farmers,  and  who,  on  account  of  their  more  liberal  ideas,  obtain  many 
important  advantages  over  the  old  practitioners,  do  not  always  suffi- 
ciently consider  how  poorly  their  education  would  serve  them,  if  there 
were  no  practical  farmer  to  advise  them,  nor  skilful  workman  to  per- 
form their  labor. 

Some  may  be  disposed  to  deny  that  the  manipulations  of  the  farm 
require  that  long  apprenticeship  which  is  usually  devoted  to  learning 
a  mechanical  art.  This  may  be  true  of  any  particular  branch  of 
farm-work ;  but  there  is  a  great  variety  of  labor  and  skill  involved 
in  the  whole  circle  of  operations.  A  young  man  who  is  strong  and 
capable,  may  learn  in  one  season  to  swing  a  scythe,  so  as  to  be 
reckoned  competent  to  receive  ordinary  wages  ;  but  an  experienced 
mower  would  readily  perceive  his  own  superiority.  If,  however,  he 
could  perfect  himself  in  one  set  of  manipulations  during  the  first 
season,  he  would  require  a  second  season  to  learn  another  set,  and 
before  he  was  proficient  in  all  departments  of  skill,  he  would  have 
served  nearly  a  seven-years'  apprenticeship. 

It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  while  men  in  general  see  very  clearly 
that  they  cannot  be  good  practitioners  of  certain  arts,  without  a  long 
course  of  study  and  experience,  they  believe  that  there  are  other  arts 
which  they  would  not  be  obliged  to  learn,  but  may,  if  they  please, 
"  take  up,"  at  any  time.  One  of  the  occupations  which  they  suppose 
they  can  "  take  up  "  thus  suddenly  and  without  preparation,  is  farm- 
ing. When  they  watch  an  artist  who  is  drawing  the  working-plan  of 
a  house,  in  all  its  parts,  they  perceive,  if  they  are  not  artists,  that  he 
is  performing  a  work  which  is  beyond  their  own  ability ;  but  when 
they  see  a  man  dropping  potatoes  into  a  hill,  or  hoeing  up  weeds, 
they  think  they  see  the  evidence  that  any  one  can  be  a  farmer.  The 
practice  of  agriculture  and  the  practice  of  medicine  resemble  one 
another  in  this  indistinctness  of  their  requirements ;  yet  they  are  the 


16 

most  difficult  of  all  arts,  because  there  are  so  many  circumstances  in 
their  experience,  which  cannot  be  precisely  stated  or  exactly  defined. 
Hence  there  are  multitudes  of  stupid  and  ignorant  persons,  who 
believe  they  can  successfully  act  the  farmer  or  the  physician,  be- 
cause they  are  incapable  of  seeing  or  appreciating  their  deficiencies. 
With  respect  to  mathematics,  and  all  the  exact  sciences  and  arts, 
every  man  of  common-sense,  who  is  ignorant  of  them,  understands 
the  proof  of  his  ignorance.  A  man  sees  at  once  why  he  cannot 
make  a  telescope,  or  survey  a  coast  by  trigonometry ;  but  he  cannot 
see  why,  if  he  has  learned  the  virtues  of  a  few  herbs,  and  the  names 
of  a  few  diseases,  he  may  not  be  a  physician,  or  why,  if  he  knows 
how  to  put  seed  into  the  ground  and  cover  it  up,  he  may  not  be  a 
farmer.  A  science  or  art  requires  experience,  in  exact  proportion  to 
the  uncertainty  that  exists  in  the  application  of  its  rules  and  princi- 
ples ;  yet  this  very  uncertainty  renders  the  ignorant  more  bold  in  as- 
suming the  practice  of  such  an  art.  Hence  the  multitude  of  quacks 
who  invade  the  ranks  of  medicine  and  of  agriculture. 

A  complete  farmer  will  be  found,  therefore,  only  among  those  who 
were  brought  up  to  the  business  of  farming.  All  others  must  be 
awkward  in  the  performance  of  their  labor,  unskilful  in  their  manip- 
ulations, imperfect  in  their  practical  knowledge,  and  if  they  carry  on 
a  farm,  can  be  successful  only  by  using  the  advice  and  experience  of 
their  hired  men.  The  operations  of  ploughing  and  scattering  seed,  of 
mowing,  reaping,  gathering  and  stacking  the  different  crops ;  the 
rearing  of  animals  and  the  management  of  cattle,  both  when  employed 
in  labor  and  when  in  the  stall ;  the  modes  of  executing  the  ditferent 
tasks  connected  with  their  training,  and  the  adjustment  of  their  har- 
ness and  their  burdens  ;  the  care  of  fences  and  buildings  and  the  prep- 
aration and  equipment  of  agricultural  implements,  constitute  a  variety 
of  performances,  and  require  a  manifold  exercise  of  mechanical  skill, 
which  can  be  acquired  only  by  many  years  of  early  practice. 

To  encourage  this  kind  of  practical  skill  and  dexterity,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  we  must  promote  the  growth  of  a  class  which  is  exclusively 
agricultural.  We  do  not  say  caste,  because  this  would  imply  a  certain 
want  of  freedom  to  leave  its  ranks;  and  such  a  state  of  things  is 
always  fatal  to  improvement.  All  farmers'  sons  in  this  country  are 
not  expected  to  be  farmers  ;  it  is  sufficient  that  those  who  consent  to 
be  their  representatives,  should  be  trained  from  their  early  years  with 
this  expectation.  The  others  are  expected  to  constitute  the  best  ma- 
terials to  replenish  the  ranks  of  other  occupations.  Our  people  have 
but  little  idea  of  the  extreme  nicety  with  which  many  of  the  opera- 
tions of  the  farm  are  conducted  by  the  rural  classes  of  Europe,  and 
which  is  the  I'esult  of  their  exclusive  attention  to  their  art.  This 
carefulness  has  never  yet  become  a  matter  of  absolute  necessity  in  our 
system  of  agriculture ;  but  the  efficiency  of  labor  depends  greatly 
upon  it,  and  it  will  become  ere  long  indispensable  to  the  farmer's 
thrift  and  success. 

The  next  topic  of  our  discourse  on  the  education  of  farmers  is  the 
early  practical  instruction  they  require  to  enable  them  to  understand 
their  business.     With  regard  to  practical  knowledge  and  manual  skill 


17 

in  executing  the  tasks  of  labor,  it  would  be  very  far  from  the  truth  to 
say  that  one  might  not  be  an  excellent  farmer  with  these  two  qualifi- 
cations alone.  Indeed,  it  would  be  difhcult  to  find  a  person  who  joined 
these  qualifications  with  a  proficiency  in  agricultural  science,  which  is 
more  generally  possessed  by  those  who  may  be  called  amateur  farmers. 
Every  man  is  not  able  to  learn  science  in  the  midst  of  his  necessary 
avocations,  and  there  are  not  many  who  are  born  with  the  capacity 
to  understand  general  principles.  The  majority  of  men,  even  when 
highly  educated,  must  be  governed  by  facts  and  dogmas.  The  mass 
of  practitioners  in  the  learned  professions  and  the  liberal  arts,  though 
possessed  of  deep  learning,  are  mere  matter-of-fact  men  and  followers 
of  routine,  because  every  man  is  not  born  a  philosopher.  It  is  a  good 
and  efficient  practice,  therefore,  which  is  needful  to  be  inculcated  upon 
the  majority  of  every  profession  and  calling.  If  we  can  but  soften 
the  prejudices  and  obduracy  of  farmers,  that  they  may  be  willing  to 
renounce  their  errors,  to  admit  new  facts  and  adopt  new  ways,  we 
shall  have  attained  the  most  important  advantage  for  the  furtherance 
of  our  ends. 

"VVe  have  chiefly  confined  our  remarks  to  incidental  means  of  in- 
struction, but  have  not  yet  devised  any  systematic  course  of  educa- 
tion in  the  agricultural  art.  If  we  ask  formers  how  a  young  man 
could  be  most  properly  instructed  in  this  art,  the  answer  which 
would  be  given,  almost  unanimously,  would  be — "  Put  him  on  a  farm 
with  a  capable  farmer,  who  will  set  him  at  work,  and  he  will  learn 
his  business  by  practice  and  observation,  joined  with  such  instruction 
as  he  may  receive  from  his  master."  Nothing  could  be  more  reason- 
able than  such  advice,  under  the  best  circumstances  of  agricultural 
practice,  and  it  corresponds  with  all  the  precepts  we  have  inculcated 
in  this  essay.  The  boy,  if  he  equals  his  master  in  good  habits  and 
capacity,  would  probably  become  just  such  a  farmer  as  his  master ; 
but  if  he  obtained  instruction  from  no  other  source,  except  his  mas-  . 
ter's  precept  and  example,  he  would  not  be  likely  to  surpass  him. 

We  are  led,  therefore,  to  inquire  how  the  lad  is  to  obtain  that  ad- 
ditional instruction  which,  under  the  present  imperfect  condition  of 
American  agriculture,  the  generality  of  farmers  could  not  impart 
either  by  precept  or  example  ?  It  is  admitted  that  the  best  school  for 
agriculture  is  the  farm,  that  the  best  teacher  must  be  a  fai'mer,  and 
that  practice  is  more  important  than  study ;  but  it  does  not  follow  from 
this  admission,  that  every  farm  is  a  good  school,  nor  that  every  farmer 
is  a  good  teacher.  It  remains,  therefore,  to  discover  some  means 
which  may  be  successfully  used  to  convert  the  generality  of  farms  into 
good  schools  and  to  supply  the  farmers'  deficiencies  in  the  capacity  of 
teachers.  Shall  something  be  annexed  to  each  farm,  or  to  each  agri' 
cultural  district  to  furnish  that  instruction  which  the  present  genera- 
tion of  farmers  cannot  impart ;  —  shall  agricultural  schools  be  estab- 
lished to  supply  this  want ;  or,  lastly,  shall  it  be  supplied  by  the  dis- 
tribution of  books  and  tracts,  the  diffusion  of  agricultural  journals  and 
the  multiplication  of  lectures  ? 

Let  us  first  consider  what  sort  of  appendages  might  be  made  to  the 
farm,  or  annexed  to  an  agricultural  district  to  answer  these  purposes 

5—3 


18 

of  education.  The  adjuncts  recommended  by  different  writers  and 
lecturers  on  the  intellectual  wants  of  agriculture,  are  reading-rooms, 
cabinets  and  libraries,  and  courses  of  lectures  on  the  different  depart- 
ments of  farming.  With  these  are  to  be  associated  farmers'  clubs,  to 
meet  at  the  reading-rooms,  for  the  purposes  of  debating,  conversation 
and  study.  To  render  them  useful  in  the  highest  degree,  the  public 
would  be  invited  to  send  curiosities  and  other  useful  and  interesting 
matters  to  the  cabinets,  and  individuals  of  other  professions  would  be 
invited  to  participate  in  their  discussions. 

Each  of  these  schemes  would,  as  far  as  they  are  practicable,  secure 
some  of  the  purposes  intended.  But  there  are  many  obstacles  that 
interfere  with  the  general  establishment  of  them.  Associations  of 
farmers  cannot  be  instituted  or  maintained^  like  mechanics'  associa- 
tions, because  the  rural  classes  are  scattered  widely  apart,  while 
mechanics  are  congregated  in  towns  and  villages  and  can  readily 
assemble.  Farmers'  clubs  and  associations,  except  in  some  highly 
favored  districts,  must  assume  the  character  of  fairs,  which  may  be 
held  periodically  for  the  exhibition,  sale  and  purchase  of  agricultural 
products  and  live-stock.  "We  have  no  doubt  of  the  great  benefits  that 
would  result  from  the  establishment  of  clubs,  reading-rooms,  cabinets 
and  lectures ;  but  they  cannot  be  extended  or  multiplied  so  as  to  meet 
the  wants  of  the  whole  population.  They  must,  even  if  they  were 
numerous  and  general,  be  widely  distant  from  the  majority  of  those 
who  would  be  expected  to  attend  them.  Nothing  could  be  got  up  at 
these  rooms  and  at  these  meetings,  of  sufficient  interest  to  call  tired 
laborers  together,  from  their  distant  and  isolated  homes ;  and  a  very 
small  number  only  would  feel  any  lively  concern  in  the  object  of  such 
institutions.  This  last  remark  would  not  apply  to  periodical  fairs, 
because  the  pecuniary  interest  of  the  parties  would  induce  them  to 
attend.  Of  these,  their  connection  with  the  prosperity  of  agriculture, 
and  their  influence  on  the  education  of  farmers,  more  will  be  said  in 
another  essay. 

Theoretical  attainments,  and  the  knowledge  of  practical  details  may 
be  said  to  exert  in  one  respect  an  opposite  influence  on  the  mind  of 
a  pupil  in  agriculture.  The  first,  carried  beyond  certain  limits,  would 
tend  to  divorce  a  young  man  from  his  business,  and  wed  him  to  other 
pursuits  more  tempting  to  the  ambition.  Study  not  only  disinclines, 
but  partially  incapacitates  one  to  endure  protracted  or  severe  labor ; 
and  a  speculative  habit  of  mind  is  a  bar  to  steady  progress.  But  the 
greater  one's  proficiency  in  practice,  the  more  closely  is  he  bound  to 
his  pursuit ;  for,  just  in  proportion  as  one  feels  conscious  of  his  ability 
to  excel  others  in  the  occupation  to  which  he  was  bred,  would  be  the 
strength  of  his  motives  to  adhere  to  it.  A  man's  ambition  commonly 
lies  in  the  path  of  his  talents  and  acquisitions,  and  he  will  not  forsake 
this  path  as  long  as  it  affords  him  a  good  livelihood.  In  regard  to 
practical  knowledge,  therefore,  the  remark  of  Pope  is  strictly  true — 
that  "  a  little  learning  is  a  dangerous  thing,"  because  one's  practical 
deficiencies  would  be  fatal  to  his  success.  But  in  regard  to  theoreti- 
cal knowledge,  so  far  as  it  concerns  the  farmer,  the  maxim  might  be 
reversed ;  a  little  learning  is  useful,  but  more  might  destroy  his  in- 
clination for  the  labor  of  a  farm. 


19 

It  seems  less  difficult,  however,  to  devise  methods  of  communicating 
scientific  than  practical  knowledge  to  the  youth,  beside  that  which 
they  would  learn  on  the  farm.  All  those  who  are  willing  to  read 
might  learn  the  most  important  results  of  science  from  books  and  lec- 
tures ;  but  practical  details  are  not  so  easily  communicated  through 
such  mediums,  and  must  be  acquired  chiefly  by  observation,  experi- 
ence, and  verbal  instruction  while  pursuing  one's  avocations.  The 
theory  only  of  any  art  can  be  thoroughly  taught  in  books.  A  young 
man  of  good  talents  may  learn  from  books  the  whole  theory  of  bank- 
ing and  mercantile  business ;  but  if,  without  having  been  bred  to  the 
arts  of  banking  and  trade,  he  should  attempt  to  practice  them,  he 
would  find  himself  gi'eatly  inferior  to  many  an  ordinary  person  who 
was  incapable  of  comprehending  a  general  principle.  Many  an  able 
writer  on  the  economy  of  trade  would  make  a  miserable  financier. 

Still  it  will  not  be  denied  that  a  very  considerable  amount  of  prac- 
tical information  may  be  communicated  by  books  and  lectures.  Our 
agricultural  journals  have  been  an  important  medium  for  the  convey- 
ance of  practical  knowledge  as  well  as  science.  A  book  may  exhibit 
the  best  methods  of  performing  the  different  operations  of  grafting  and 
budding,  of  transplanting,  of  draining,  of  constructing  fences  and 
buildings,  of  identifying  and  destroying  injurious  insects,  and  a  variety 
of  other  matters  which  may  be  explained  by  words  or  illustrated  by 
diagram.  But  there  are  many  other  things  which  cannot  be  stated 
with  sufficient  clearness  in  language.  No  man  could  learn  from  books 
to  distinguish  the  different  varieties  of  wood  and  timber  by  their  grain 
and  general  appearance  ;  or  the  marks  by  which  an  excellent  animal 
is  distinguished  from  one  nearly  as  good  —  marks  which  are  well 
understood  by  a  farmer  who  is  practically  skilled  in  the  physiognomy 
of  domestic  animals. 

Many  a  person  knows  by  experience  those  signs  in  the  heavens 
that  indicate  what  the  weather  may  be  for  the  two  or  three  following 
hours ;  but,  however  excellent  in  description,  he  could  not  by  words, 
without  exemplification  from  nature,  make  others  understand  these 
signs.  He  must  call  them  to  him  and  show  them  the  actual  appear- 
ances;  he  must  give  them  a  portion  of  his  own  practical  experience. 
Books  cannot  intelligibly  define  all  the  different  marks  by  which  a 
practical  farmer  distinguishes  a  good  soil  from  a  poor  one,  a  calcare- 
ous from  a  siliceous  soil,  or  a  fresh  soil  from  one  that  is  worn  out  and 
exhausted.  These  marks  are  seen  chiefly  in  their  productions ;  and  to 
explain  them  all  in  words  would  require  long  pages  of  details.  But 
the  experienced  farmer  reads  them  all  at  a  glance,  from  the  page  of 
nature.  On  an  exhausted  soil  he  sees  the  starveling  weeds  coming 
up  almost  without  foliage ;  grasses  in  meagre  tufts  half  enveloped  in 
moss ;  bindweeds  with  not  strength  enough  to  extend  beyond  a  few 
inches  from  their  roots ;  grey  mosses,  or  jungermannia,  appearing 
among  a  few  feeble  shoots  of  brambles  and  lycopodies,  and  an  occa- 
sional grasshopper,  that  seems  restless  and  discontented  amidst  the 
insufficient  provision  of  nature  for  his  sustenance.  It  would  be  im- 
possible to  enumerate  the  marks  of  a  worn-out  soil,  none  of  which  a 
practical  farmer  ever  mistakes ;  and  though  he  may  not  be  able  to  give 


20 

a  botanical  name  to  a  single  one  of  tliese  plants,  lie  is  no  less  accurate 
in  his  observation  and  his  judgment. 

An  important  step  towards  improving  the  rising  generation  in  prac- 
tical knowledge  would  be  taken,  if  any  way  could  be  devised  for 
teaching  farmers  in  general  the  art  of  conveying  their  own  ideas  in 
words.  This  is  not  a  common  faculty :  even  those  who  have  what  is 
called  the  "  gift  of  the  gab,"  seldom  possess  it.  With  this  power  of 
explaining  their  ideas,  less  of  the  knowledge  which  the  masters  pos- 
sess would  be  lost  to  their  apprentices.  This  object  might  be  partially 
accomplished,  by  writing  a  practical  farmer's  own  ideas  in  simple  and 
intelligible  language,  and  presenting  them  to  him  in  print,  for  his 
perusal.  By  this  perusal  of  his  own  knowledge  it  would  assume  a 
more  palpable  form,  and  a  more  distinct  arrangement  in  his  own 
head.  He  would  "  understand  himself"  better  than  he  did  before. 
Many  persons  of  ordinary  education  but  good  practical  sense,  might 
be  made  capable  instructors,  by  the  aid  thus  afforded  them.  Inde- 
pendent of  this  advantage,  a  practical  farmer  would  feel  complimented 
by  seeing  his  own  thoughts  clothed  in  expressive  terms,  and  made 
clear  to  his  understanding.  There  is  many  a  farmer  who  can  write 
the  English  language  grammatically  and  with  propriety,  who  would 
find  himself  greatly  at  a  loss  for  expressions,  to  convey  his  thoughts 
distinctly  to  another's  mind.  Words  are  important  aids  to  thought, 
and  improve  the  clearness  of  our  comprehension,  as  diagrams  assist 
the  pupil  in  geometry. 

This  course  of  reasoning  would  seem  to  indicate  the  advantage  of 
publishing  and  distributing  among  farmers,  short  tracts  on  subjects  of 
practical  agriculture,  after  the  system  pursued  by  religious  tract  soci- 
eties. These  should  not  be  thrust  intrusively  and  unceremoniously 
upon  the  heads  of  families,  but  sent  to  them  by  their  leave  and  under 
the  general  title  of  "  Tracts  on  subjects  connected  with  practical 
farming  in  New  England,  gathered  from  the  experience  of  farmers, 
for  the  benefit  of  their  youth."  As  means  of  instruction,  these  tracts 
would  be  more  effective  than  the  agricultural  journals,  we  may  say, 
without  any  disparagement  of  the  latter.  When  one  takes  up  a 
tract,  if  he  reads  it  at  all,  he  would  read  something  that  appertains  to 
agriculture :  whereas  if  he  takes  up  a  newspaper,  the  agricultural 
paragraphs  might  be  the  only  parts  which  he  would  omit ;  and  they 
are  usually  the  parts  to  which  the  young  reader  pays  the  least  atten- 
tion. Besides,  if  the  tract  were  published  by  a  committee  of  an 
agricultural  society,  it  would  seldom  put  forth  any  important,  errors ; 
while  the  editor  of  a  newspaper,  however  correct  in  his  knowledge  and 
judgment,  is  constrained  to  publish  many  crudities  and  whimsical 
notions  to  satisfy  the  vanity  of  his  correspondents. 

It  is  needless  to  enumerate  the  topics  which  might  be  discussed  in 
a  series  of  agricultural  tracts.  It  is  enough  to  say  that  they  should 
be  written  in  a  simple  and  luminous  style,  that  they  should  treat  only 
of  those  matters  which  can  be  made  interesting,  and  that  they  should 
be  gratuitously  distributed.  When  treating  of  science  they  should 
not  be  abstruse ;  it  is  better  to  leave  some  important  things  unsaid,  if 
tliey  be  so  abstruse  as  to  disincline  the  reader  to  continue  to  the  end 


21 

of  the  chapter.  The  tracts  on  scientific  subjects  ought,  therefore,  to 
be  written  by  intelligent  ])ersons,  who  are  not  professors  of  science,  as 
the  latter  are  notoriously  incapable  of  reiulering  their  ideas  in  popu- 
lar language.  Those  of  a  practical  description  might  be  written  by 
any  one  who  has  the  command  of  an  easy  and  perspicuous  style,  and 
who  is  sufficiently  acquainted  with  agriculture,  to  make  correct  reports 
of  the  information  he  should  obtain  from  its  original  sources. 

An  editor,  who  is  capable  of  writing  a  part  of  the  series,  should  be 
appointed  to  superintend  the  preparation  and  publication  of  the  tracts, 
which  might  be  distributed  according  to  the  following  plan : — Let 
each  County  Agricultural  Society  in  Massachusetts  receive  at  the  cost 
of  paper  and  printing,  as  many  copies  as  they  might  see  fit  to  circu- 
late among  their  fellow-citizens.  The  Massachusetts  State  Board  of 
Agriculture  might  be  responsible  to  the  printer  and  publisher,  and  pay 
the  editor's  salary,  as  their  part  of  the  expense  and  trouble  of  the 
enterprise.  The  burden  of  distribution,  and  the  publishers'  cost  of  all 
they  distribute,  might  fall  upon  the  County  Societies,  as  their  part  of 
the  labor  and  expense.  The  tracts  should  be  published  monthly,  in 
small  duodecimo  form,  printed  with  long  primer  type,  and  containing 
about  eight  or  ten  pages.  The  cost  of  the  publication  would  be  too 
small  to  stand  in  the  way  of  its  expediency. 

In  the  last  division  of  our  subject,  we  are  to  treat  of  the  scientijie 
instruction  which  is  needful  to  farmers  to  enable  them  to  improve  their 
practice.  A  good  and  efficient  practice  must  not  be  sacrificed,  nor 
even  jeopardised  by  application  to  the  elements  of  scientific  farming. 
Let  the  youth  be  thoroughly  versed  in  all  the  branches  of  practical 
agriculture :  it  is  sufficient,  if  they  are  only  inoculated  with  science  : 
the  mind  is  cleared  thereby  of  those  vulgar  humors  called  prejudices, 
which  are  the  grand  obstacles  to  progress  and  improvement.  It  is 
not  desirable  to  convert  farmers  into  men  of  science  :  their  avocations 
will  not  permit  them  to  acquire  the  learning  of  a  professor  :  but  they 
ought,  as  far  as  possible,  to  be  made  familiar  with  those  important 
results  of  the  investigations  of  learned  men,  which  bear  closely  upon 
the  interests  of  agriculture.  Some  of  the  discipline  of  science  would 
also  be  valuable  to  them,  by  giving  them  an  intelligent  ear  and  a 
willingness  to  listen. 

He  may  be  considered  therefore,  a  good  scientific  farmer,  who  is 
acquainted  with  the  general  results  of  science  which  are  important  to 
agriculture,  though  he  may  be  ignorant  of  the  processes  that  led 
to  them.  If,  for  example,  one  has  learned  the  constituent  properties  of 
a  good  soil,  though  he  may  not  be  able  to  analyze  it ;  if  he  knows 
why  a  plant  is  dependent  on  its  foliage  for  its  growth  and  develop- 
ment, though  he  cannot  state  the  methods  by  which  this  fact  may  be 
proved  ;  in  fine,  if  one  understands  the  general  results  of  agricultural 
chemistry,  though  he  is  no  chemist ;  the  improvements  in  agricul- 
tural machinery,  though  he  is  no  mechanician, — he  has  all  the  science 
which  is  generally  available  to  the  farmer.  More  than  this  cannot  be 
expected  of  those  who  devote  the  greater  part  of  their  time  to  labor, 
and  who  must  acquire  a  large  stock  of  information  from  experience, 
before  they  can  establish  themselves  in  business. 


22 

The  most  unwilling  learners  are  those  who  are  proficient  in  a  cer- 
tain mode  of  practice,  and  who  possess  but  little  general  knowledge. 
They  perceive  their  own  expertness  in  an  art  which  but  few  under- 
stand as  well  as  they  do,  and  they  have  naturally  become  proud  of 
their  j^roficiency  and  jealous  of  those  who  attempt  to  instruct  them. 
This  sort  of  bigotry  is  the  result  of  ignorance,  but  not  the  ignorance 
of  one's  business,  and  it  is  very  common  among  good  practical  farm- 
ers. A  little  more  general  knowledge  would  give  them  a  willingness 
to  learn  new  ways,  and  to  correct  their  errors.  It  is  the  obduracy  of. 
such  men  that  causes  them  to  jog  along  in  the  old  by-road  of  pro- 
fessional routine,  while  the  public  is  carried  forward  in  the  car  of 
innovation.  Hence  we  may  account  for  the  fact  sometimes  observed, 
that  young  men  who  leave  the  ranks  of  some  other  business  and  be- 
come farmers,  go  ahead  of  the  old  practitioners,  in  spite  of  their  want 
of  skill  and  practical  knowledge. 

One  great  desideratum,  therefore,  in  agricultural  education,  is  to 
gain  a  willing  audience  among  practical  farmers,  and  to  show  them, 
without  wounding  their  pride,  that  there  are  many  things  to  be  learned 
by  which  they  might  improve  their  practice.  A  slight  acquaintance 
with  the  facts  of  science  tends  to  liberalize  their  minds  in  this  respect; 
and  as  soon  as  one  has  been  converted  into  a  willing  listener,  he 
cannot  avoid  becoming  a  learner.  The  streams  of  knowledge  are 
pouring  down  the  hills  of  science  in  a  thousand  different  channels. 
They  would  spontaneously  flow  into  every  capable  man's  mind,  if  he 
would  consent.  But  many  of  our  farmers  shut  them  out  by  positive 
efforts,  lest  they  should  disturb  the  sluggish  waters  of  prejudice  that 
form  a  charming  landscape  to  their  sight. 

The  public  entertains  no  very  distinct  ideas  in  relation  to  the 
amount  of  science  which  is  required  by  the  farmer  for  the  improve- 
ment of  his  practice.  The  error  of  those  who  have  treated  of  the 
subject  consists  in  demanding  a  larger  stock  of  information  of  this 
kind,  than  could  by  any  means  be  rendered  available  to  the  generality 
of  working-men.  In  regard  to  chemistry,  it  may  be  expedient  that  a 
farmer  should  know  the  chemical  relations  and  affinities  between 
acids  and  alkalies,  between  oxygen  and  metallic  substances,  and  the 
results  of  their  different  combinations  :  he  should  undei'stand  the 
mutual  dependence  of  the  soil,  of  the  atmosphere,  of  animals  and  of 
vegetation  upon  each  other,  and  should  know  their  constituent 
elements.  All  this  he  might  learn,  without  deep  study,  from  a  little 
instruction  in  the  grammar  of  chemistry,  which  ought,  indeed,  to  be 
introduced  into  the  district  schools,  being  important  to  other  arts 
beside  that  of  the  farmer.  The  grammar  of  chemistry  w^ould  enable 
one  to  learn  and  understand  many  facts  which  are  constantly  pre- 
sented to  the  observation  of  farmers,  and  are  lost  to  them  for  the 
want  of  that  rudimentary  instruction  that  Avould  make  them  intel- 
ligible. 

Most  people  feel  a  sort  of  contempt  for  botany,  as  if  it  were  only 
an  amusement  for  young  women,  and  not  a  grave  study  worthy  of  a 
man  and  a  philosopher.  They  associate  the  study  only  with  flowers, 
without  considering  that  it  has  occupied  the  whole  life  of  some  of  the 


23 

greatest  of  men.  Our  horticulturists  generally  possess  a  good  knowl- 
edge of  botany  ;  and  tliongh  it  is  not  equally  important  to  the  farmer, 
it  would  greatly  assist  his  progress  in  knowledge,  and  afford  him' 
many  a  pleasant  exercise  of  his  observation.  A  fanner  should  under- 
stand the  general  principles  of  classification,  and  should  be  able  to 
identify  a  plant  by  a  botanical  description.  How  limited  soever  this 
knowledge,  every  new  fact  which  he  learns  renders  him  more  intel- 
ligent ;  and  every  new  ray  of  science  that  enters  his  mind,  removes 
some  film  of  bigotry  that  has  been  drawn  over  his  mental  sight. 

Let  a  young  man  understand  the  elements  of  any  branch  of 
science,  and  his  observations  will  constantly  add  to  his  knowledge, 
Avhile  if  he  vvere  ignorant,  his  observations  might  serve  only  to  con- 
firm his  prejudices.  We  are  not  surprised  when  we  observe  how- 
much  better  a  man  can  work  with  tools  or  instruments  than  without 
them.  But  the  principles  of  science  are  the  tools  of  observation, 
without  which  it  is  blundering  and  inefficient.  Even  if  instruction  of 
this  sort  in  the  public  schools  were  to  reach  only  a  few  minds,  those 
few  would  render,  a  vast  service  to  others  by  enlightening  and  direct- 
ing their  observation.  If  there  be  but  one  well-educated  man  in  a 
district  of  intelligent  farmers,  the  whole  number  are  profited  by  his 
knowledge  and  his  wisdom.  Every  neighbor  sharpens  his  wits  on  this 
man's  grindstone.  They  all  likewise  respect  their  occupation  the 
more,  because  they  can  reckon  one  superior  man  in  their  ranks. 

Geology  is  useful  in  explaining  the  resources  of  the  country,  and 
assists  one  in  estimating  the  value  of  land  in  different  localities,  from 
the  geological  character  of  the  place.  But  the  principal  advantages 
of  this  science  are  such  as  arise  from  its  influence  on  the  mind. 
Geology,  above  all  other  studies,  engenders  habits  of  reflection,  and 
interests  one  in  the  observation  of  natui-e ;  and  when  we  meet  with 
a  farmer  who  is  a  lover  and  a  student  of  nature,  though  we  might  not 
warrant  that  he  is  a  more  successful  practitioner  than  others,  we  are 
sure  that  he  is  satisfied  with  his  occupation.  Many  young  men 
become  reconciled  to  the  confinement  of  a  counting-room  in  the  city, 
because  it  brings  them  in  contact  with  the  city's  amusements.  In 
like  manner,  those  who  are  fond  of  the  study  of  nature  will  love  the 
exercises  of  the  farm,  which  is  a  part  of  nature's  domain. 

It  ought  also  to  be  expected  that  every  practical  farmer  should 
understand  the  habits  of  the  principal  insect  pests  of  his  fields  and 
orchards.  _  A  great  amount  of  useful  knowledge  of  this  kind  is  fre- 
quently picked  up  by  ingenious  men,  who  have  no  acquaintance  with 
the  science  of  entomology.  But  had  these  persons  been  early 
instructed  in  the  grammar  of  this  science,  their  observations  would 
have  been  conducted  with  method,  and  with  much  less  effort  they 
would  have  obtained  more  valuable  knowledge  of  the  habits  of 
insects.  ^  As  we  have  already  intimated,  one  important  method  of 
instructing  young  men  in  the  elements  of  these  sciences,  is  to  intro- 
duce thein  into  the  district  schools.  Let  there  be  a  higher  class  to 
receive  instruction  in  the  grammar  of  each  of  the  branches  above 
enumerated. 

It  is  only  through  the  district  schools  that  the  generality  of  the 
rural  population  can  be  reached,  during  the  period  of  youth,  and  the 


24 

addition  of  these  exercises  would  but  slightly  increase  the  expense  of 
the  schools.  If  a  higher  grade  of  qualifications  was  consequently 
required  of  the  teachers,  those  only  would  be  excluded  who,  under 
present  circumstances,  are  unqualified  for  their  task.  Should  lectures 
be  established,  according  to  the  suggestion  of  an  able  writer*  on  this 
subject,  they  might  be  connected  with  recitations  at  the  district  schools  ; 
and  in  some  cases  the  teacher  might  be  employed  to  lecture.  Lec- 
turing, however,  is  so  expensive,  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  make  it 
sufficiently  general,  to  convey  instruction  to  the  great  mass  of  the 
farming  population. 

The  tract  system  would  seem  to  be  admirably  adapted  to  diffuse 
information  on  all  scientific  subjects.  In  connection  with  this  it  might 
be  advisable  to  make  offijrs  of  prizes  to  a  certain  number  of  individ- 
uals who  should  pass  the  best  examination  in  the  several  departments 
of  agricultural  science  and  experience.  Let  ten  prizes  of  equal 
amount,  for  example,  be  offered  annually  by  each  County  Agricultu- 
ral Society,  to  the  ten  individuals,  members  of  a  farmer's  family,  who 
will  give  the  fullest,  most  correct  and  most  intelligent  answers  to  a 
series  of  questions  to  be  proposed  by  the  Society.  The  questions 
might  be  published  as  one  of  the  series  of  tracts,  to  be  followed,  after 
the  examination,  by  another  containing  the  answers. 

It  is  not  probable  that  there  would  be  a  perplexing  number  of  com- 
petitors for  the  prizes ;  the  more,  however,  the  better  for  the  spread 
of  information.  Many  young  people  of  both  sexes  would  be  stimu- 
lated by  these  offers  to  make  some  progress  in  knowledge.  Among 
farmers,  as  among  other  classes,  there  are  some  whose  ignorance  pro- 
ceeds from  a  want  of  natural  capacity.  These  must  always  remain 
mere  drudges ;  they  cannot  be  observers  and  thinkers.  But  the 
majority  are  ignorant  not  from  a  Avant  of  ability,  but  because  their 
desire  for  knowledge  has  never  been  awakened.  Such  are  the  indi- 
viduals upon  whose  minds,  the  offer  of  prizes  of  this  kind  would  act 
in  a  favorable  manner.  The  few,  however,  who  are  stimulated  to 
engage  in  the  studies  and  contend  for  the  prizes,  are  not  the  only 
ones  who  would  receive  the  benefit  of  them.  Many  a  young  man  who 
jocosely  ridicules  his  comrade,  for  collecting  flowers  and  minerals,  or 
chasing  bugs,  would  assist  him  in  his  explorations,  and  become  the 
recipient  of  important  knowledge. 

Year  after  year  similar  offers  might  be  made  —  for  the  best  exam- 
inations respecting  the  names,  the  cultivation,  and  the  comparative 
value  of  the  different  grasses ;  concerning  the  relations  of  chemistry 
and  agriculture,  the  character  of  certain  soils,  rocks,  fertilizers  and 
other  substances  found  in  the  earth ;  also,  on  the  identity  and  habits 
of  certain  prominent  insects  which  are  injurious  to  the  farm  and  the 
garden.  By  such  methods  young  people  are  assisted  in  educating 
themselves ;  and  it  is  on  self-education,  stimulated  by  the  efforts  of 
those  who  are  watchful  of  the  public  welfare,  that  the  chief  reliance 
must  be  placed.  They  are  induced  to  study  by  the  excitement  of 
their  curiosity,  consequent  upon  reading  the  questions  proposed  in  the 
tract  or  the  newspaper,  and  accompanying  the  offer  of  the  prizes.  Many 

*  Hon.  George  Boutwell. 


25 

a  happy  family-circle,  during  a  leisure  evening  by  the  fireside,  or 
while  resting  from  their  labors  in  the  day,  would  employ  themselves 
in  asking  these  questions  of  each  other,  and  puzzling  out  the  answers. 

But  we  must  ever  keep  in  mind,  in  our  attempts  to  improve  the 
farmer's  education,  that  the  main  point  is  his  practical  proficiency. 
AH  other  kinds  of  instruction  must  have  a  direct  bearing  towards  this 
— the  polar  star  of  his  educational  course, — and  every  aid  he  receives 
in  his  progress  must  take  this  direction,  filling  his  mind  without  di- 
verting it  from  its  destination.  All  the  tracts,  therefore,  on  scientific 
subjects,  must  be  eminently  practical  in  their  bearing ;  neither  abstruse 
nor  hypothetical.  They  must  enlighten  without  confusing  his  mind, 
not  pei'plexing  it  with  notions,  but  establishing  facts,  whose  relation 
to  agriculture  is  pei'fectly  clear.  In  the  offer  of  prizes,  the  practical 
department  should  receive  full  attention ;  for  any  person  would  become 
more  proficient  in  his  art  by  acquiring  a  habit  of  assigning  reasons  for 
his  practice. 

Prizes  of  this  character  would  serve  also  to  elevate  the  business  of 
farming  in  the  opinions  of  men,  by  implying  an  acknowledgement, 
that  intellect  is  required  for  the  occupation.  This  is  not  implied  in 
the  award  of  premiums  for  agricultural  essays  ;  for  these  are  seldom 
written  by  farmers ;  and  however  expedient  the  offer,  and  however 
useful  the  essay,  the  farming  community  are  often  chagrined  at  seeing 
prizes  of  this  kind  carried  off  by  one  who,  they  well  know,  cannot 
equal  themselves,  in  the  knowledge  of  practical  agriculture.  Premi- 
ums should,  therefore,  be  awarded,  for  intellectual  exei'cises,  in  which 
fai'mers  and  the  children  of  farmers  should  be  the  only  competitors, 
and  under  such  circumstances  as  would  prevent  the  pei'sonal  diffidence 
of  the  candidates  from  standing  in  the  way  of  their  success. 

It  may  be  objected  to  the  offer  of  prizes  for  examinations  in  certain 
branches  of  knowledge,  that  some  individuals  Avould  obtain  the  pre- 
mium, who  are  excelled  in  industry  by  others  who  could  not  so  readily 
explain  the  reasons  for  what  they  do,  and  that  it  would  be  better  to 
give  prizes  only  to  industry.  It  may  be  remarked,  however,  in  an- 
swer to  this  objection,  that  among  qualities  which  are  equally  impor- 
tant, we  should  hold  out  the  most  encouragement  to  those  which  are 
the  least  common.  Among  our  people,  insufficient  knowledge  is  more 
common  than  indolence  ;  and  it  is  not  their  industry  that  requires  a 
spur,  which  is  needful  rather  to  their  rational  curiosity  and  intelligent 
observation.  The  intellectual  habits  of  our  countrymen  are  greatly 
injured  by  their  propensity  to  devote  all  their  attention  and  observa- 
tion to  the  ax'ts  of  trading  and  bargaining.  Hence,  they  are  "  sharp," 
industrious  and  active,  rather  than  intelligent.  Those  virtues  and  those 
habits  require  the  most  encouragement  which  do  not  grow  up  sponta- 
neously. It  should  be  added  that  our  societies  have  always  encouraged 
the  useful  virtue  of  industry  by  the  award  of  premiums  for  lat  luii- 
mals,  good  crops  and  well-tilled  fields.  They  should  now  stimulate 
industrious  men  to  cultivate  habits  of  intelligent  observation,  to  learn 
to  state  the  reasons  for  their  practice,  and  to  express  their  ideas  with 
ease  and  perspicuity. 

All  vapid  eulogies  on  the  noble  character  of  the  farmer's  occupation 
amount  to  nothing ;  they  are  but  so  many  idle  words  that  do  not  serve 

5-^ 


f 


26 

in  the  least  to  increase  its  respectability.  This  end  can  be  attained 
only  by  elevating  the  rural  classes  as  intelligent  beings.  A  farmer's 
business  is  no  reproach  to  him  in  this  country ;  no  man,  whatever 
may  be  his  social  position,  is  unwilling,  if  he  be  the  son  of  a  farmer, 
to  make  known  his  pedigree.  But  the  time  has  not  yet  arrived,  when 
it  is  regarded  as  a  positive  honor  to  be  a  farmer ;  and  it  will  not 
arrive,  until  the  farmers  rise  above  the  present  standard  of  educa- 
tion. Agriculture,  as  all  will  admit,  is  a  noble  art ;  but  the  practice 
of  it  can  be  honorable  only  to  those  who  are  thoroughly  acquainted 
with  it,  and  who  are  intelligent  citizens  as  well  as  successful  farmers. 


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